


I've Got a Feeling About You

by heros_wings



Category: GOT7
Genre: AU, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Attempt at Humor, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Daddy Kink, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Inside Out Au, Jackbum being jealous, M/M, Making Out, Mark and Jackson driving JB and Jinyoung insane under restaurant tables, Markjinson on a plane, Meeting the Parents, Mostly jinyoung having terrible travel luck, PWP, Parent!JB, Pick-Up Lines, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut, Some Humor, Sort of? - Freeform, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teasing, Trainee Days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8720686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heros_wings/pseuds/heros_wings
Summary: A collection of GOT7 fic requests!





	1. Jackson/Jaebum

**Author's Note:**

> I asked people to submit fic requests on tumblr., so here is the first one!
> 
> Requests are closed :) Thank you for everyone who requested something!!
> 
> Romantic: Any hyungline pairing/OT3/OT4! Platonic: Any OT7 pairing!
> 
> So here is the first filled request, from anon, who wanted hyungline where Markjin and Jackbum go on a double date somewhere and leave horny af because their date kept teasing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: R-ish?

Jaebum rolled his eyes when he caught Jackson’s glare from the corner of his eye as they pulled into the parking garage.

“Are you going to glare at me all night?” he muttered, finding an empty spot close to the elevators.

When Jackson didn’t reply, he sighed and pulled up the parking brake. “It’s _one night_ , Jackson.”

“When was the last time we had _one night_ , Jaebum?” Jackson retorted, getting out and slamming the car door shut with more force than necessary. He met Jaebum’s sharp look with one of his own. “I am _so_ not calling you _hyung_ , right now.” He brushed passed him and stalked off to the elevators. 

“Why are we even arriving separately?” Jackson grumbled, as Jinyoung and Mark pulled up next to Jaebum’s car. “ _We live in the same fucking apartment.”_ He scowled at the car as if it had personally offended him.

Jaebum reached up and clasped the back of his neck, rubbing his thumb in slow, calming strokes. Jackson’s shoulders dropped reluctantly and he let out a long, disparaging sigh.

“Look on the bright side,” Jaebum grinned a bit as Mark and Jinyoung approached. “Mark doesn’t look happy either.”

An angry Jackson and an angry Mark were two, startlingly contrasting forces — where Jackson scowled, fussed, and made his displeasure well and loudly known, Mark was all withering looks and icy stares. He slammed things and ripped drawers from their bearings, without a uttering a single word until he was good and ready, and armed with words that cut bone deep.

Jinyoung strolled next to him with a tight smile that still brought out the eye-whiskers their fans went crazy over. Which meant _he_ was pissed. Jaebum really wasn’t equipped to deal with this tonight.

They greeted each other like they _hadn’t_ just left the same apartment less than an hour ago, and took the elevator up to the fifth floor to the restaurant Jinyoung had reserved.

“What did you do?” he muttered in Jinyoung’s ear, after they gave the host their name and followed her to their table.

Mark and Jackson walked ahead of them — Jackson with his shoulders hunched and grumbling, and Mark, walking stiffly next to him in barely contained fury.

“ _Nothing_.” Jinyoung narrowed his eyes briefly at Mark's back. “He just didn't want to come out tonight.”

Jaebum raised an eyebrow at him. Mark and Jinyoung weren't Jaebum and Jackson, who bickered and fought like their relationship couldn't survive without it. Mark and Jinyoung were long, significant looks and brushes of fingertips and sitting so they were always touching some part of each other. They didn't _bicker_. They warred.

“Ex-girlfriend…” he finally muttered as they approached the table, where Mark and Jackson were already seated in steely silence.

Jaebum replied with an understanding, “ah…” because this was a frequent battle — Mark and his habit of remaining friends with exes. One in particular. 

Jinyoung grunted in response before dropping into his seat next to Mark, who stiffened but didn't move away. Jaebum slid into his seat next to Jackson with a sigh. It was going to be a long fucking night.

The restaurant was exactly the kind of place Jaebum would expect Jinyoung to choose — elegant but not oppressively formal. The menu was small but varied, and Jaebum noted that _“all ingredients are 100% organic and locally grown”_ was in fine print on the bottom of the menu. He smiled a bit at Jinyoung’s obsessive attention to detail. _Organic_ was purely for Jackson’s benefit.

They ordered a bottle of wine, because they knew it was the only way any of them were going to make it through the night. Jinyoung and Jaebum attempted conversation while ignoring the two sulking next to them, but it died quickly and they were left to pick at the bread while they waited for soup and salad.

When their waiter returned, he poured them each a quarter glass of red wine, waited until they all confirmed it was acceptable, then set the bottle on the table. Once he left, Jaebum reached over and topped off Jackson's untouched glass. A peace offering.

Jackson glanced at him, frowning, eyes narrowed in a silent, _you're not getting off that easily._ Still, he took the glass with a grateful hum and gulped down half. Jinyoung attempted the same, but Mark pointedly ignored the gesture. Jaebum drained his own glass and poured another. They were going to need two bottles at this rate. Maybe three.

Mercifully, their soup and salad arrived shortly after, giving Jaebum an excuse to focus on something other than the heavy silence.

A warm weight on his thigh made him freeze mid-motion, his spoon suspended and dripping soup back into the bowl. He glanced over at Jackson, who was taking another sip of wine. His other hand was on Jaebum's thigh.

Swallowing, Jaebum turned back to his soup. Under normal circumstances, Jackson's hand would be a welcome sense of comfort. A silent gesture of ‘ _we’re ok_.’ But Jackson's hand wasn't just _resting._ His fingers were tracing delicate, teasing lines across the inside of Jaebum's thigh, as if Jackson was mapping out some invisible pattern no one else could see but was made to unravel Jaebum. His leg twitched, as if to shake Jackson off. The fingers dug in, and he stilled. Fuck.

He glanced at Jackson again. Fully aware of his racing pulse and the warmth coiling dangerously deep in his stomach. Jackson speared several leaves of lettuce as his hand traced a long, agonizing line up the inner seam of Jaebum's jeans, face impassive.

Jaebum forced his gaze around to Jinyoung, who was pouring himself another glass of wine. When their eyes met, he raised an eyebrow and tilted the bottle towards Jaebum in silent question despite the still half-full glass in front of him. Jackson’s fingers danced dangerously close to his zipper, and Jaebum held out his glass.

Then flagged the waiter down for a second bottle.

In attempt to stop Jackson’s wandering hand, he reached under the table and grabbed it in a firm grip. He saw the corner of Jackson's lips twitch up for the first time all night as he turned his head to meet Jaebum's gaze. He had a cherry tomato caught between his lips.

Slowly, deliberately, he bit into it, and slid his tongue across his bottom lip to catch the excess juice. Jaebum released Jackson's hand as if he received an electric shock. The table was too small to move away. He was stuck. With Jackson and his _fucking hand_ drawing circles up his thigh and running across his zipper with just enough pressure to make it _perfectly_ unsatisfying and exceptionally _maddening_.

“Something wrong, Jaebum?” he asked casually, taking a sip of wine. His hand flattened across his crotch and pressed down.

Jaebum jumped.

“Ow!” Jinyoung winced and rubbed his calf where Jaebum had kicked him.

“S-sorry,” he reached a shaky hand for his wine glass and drained it, shooting a glare at Jackson as he set it back on the table.

Jackson smiled innocently back just as his hand wandered back to playing with the inside seam of Jaebum's pants. Which were now, uncomfortably tight.

Mark was watching them with that careful, stoic look of his and suddenly Jaebum felt exposed. Like Mark could _see_ the way Jackson's fingers had resumed their ministrations. Playing with his zipper, scraping along the fabric, pressing down and digging his palm into the growing heat.

Jaebum shifted, under the pretense of simply adjusting his seat, but it was more than that. It was searching for _more_. More friction against Jackson's hand. A longer touch. A firmer press of Jackson’s hand against him. Warmth spread up his neck and to his cheeks as he realized what he was doing and he shot another glare at Jackson, who smirked at him and popped his last crouton in his mouth.

By the time their waiter arrived with their food, Jaebum could barely concentrate on anything _but_ Jackson's hand on him.

Jinyoung coughed, making Jaebum look up to see him squirming uncomfortably in his seat, his cheeks flushed pink. Mark’s hand was under the table.

 _Jesus_.

Jinyoung’s eyes widened. They both reached for the wine bottle, nearly knocking it over. Jinyoung got there first. He poured himself a full glass and nearly spilled it over the side. Jaebum reached over and did the same.

He had never sat through a more agonizing dinner. Jackson’s hand never left his leg. Never ceased its movements. Jackson and Mark began chatting idly, while Jinyoung and Jaebum fought to control their breathing and finished off the second bottle of wine.

Far from making things _better_ , the wine made his head pleasantly fuzzy and more difficult to concentrate on _not_ letting an audible gasp escape when Jackson’s hand rubbed against the front of his jeans. Or thinking about licking the wine from Jackson's lips every time he took a sip.

Jinyoung wasn't fairing much better. Mark licked white cream from his lips and smirked whenever he caught Jinyoung watching. Jaebum didn't even _know_ there was a way to make eating pasta look suggestive. And yet Mark was across from him putting on a fucking tutorial.

“Dessert?” The waiter returned, smiling politely.

Jackson’s hand stilled.

“Please.” Mark answered at the same time Jinyoung gasped, “ _Check!”_

“Dessert for me too,” Jackson chimed in, his hand resuming their light caresses.

The waiter startled back as Jaebum sprung to his feet, hitting the table, and nearly toppling sideways as the room spun.

“Bathroom,” he grunted, grabbing Jackson’s arm and hauling him out of his chair.

“I don’t need to—”

His mouth snapped shut under Jaebum’s heated gaze. “On second thought—”

Jaebum didn’t wait for him to finish. He grabbed Jackson’s wrist and pulled him through the restaurant. Everything went by in a blur of soft browns and blues and candle lights, and then suddenly they were under the bright florescent lights of the elevator lobby. Jaebum punched the “down” button.

“This isn’t the bathroom,” Jackson remarked, sounding amused as the elevator arrived with a soft _ding!_

Jaebum shoved him in and backed him into the corner.

“Did you seriously just walk out on a check—”

Jaebum crashed their lips together, pressing his body into Jackson’s like he was trying to fuse into a single being. He was pissed and drunk and _so fucking in love_ he didn’t care if the elevator doors opened to reveal every tabloid reporter in South Korea. He clung to Jackson. Wedged his knee between his thighs and let him _feel_ how out of control he made him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jackson gasped, drawing his head back to rest against the elevator wall. His chest rose and fell against Jaebum's, trying to catch his breath.

The elevator doors opened, and this time it was Jackson pulling Jaebum, leading him to the car, where he let Jaebum press him against the passenger side door, and kiss him like it was the only thing keeping him alive. Like Jackson was the air he needed to breathe.

“We’re so fucked if there are cameras,” Jackson laughed breathlessly as Jaebum's lips trailed across his jaw and down his neck.

His hands wandered under Jackson’s shirt and caressed the skin beneath, losing himself in the sensation of hard muscle and warmth under his fingertips. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew they couldn't be caught. That they were risking everything so out in the open. But the wine and the feel of Jackson beneath him, smiling into his kisses, created a haze he couldn't see through. It was just Jackson. Jackson with his breathless laughter and gentle fingers carding through Jaebum's hair as they kissed. Jackson, who tasted like wine and warm summer nights and every sin and virtue Jaebum ever had...

“Jinyoung is going to kill you,” Jackson giggled between kisses.

“Shut up, Jackson,” Jaebum caught his lip between his teeth and licked into his mouth in a final, searing kiss. Jackson's knees buckled and Jaebum held him up.

“You're driving,” he panted, pulling away, flushed and breathless.

Jackson nodded shakily, as if it was taking every bit of mental and physical strength he had to remain standing.

Teasing fingers danced across the front of Jackson's jeans. Jaebum smirked when his breath hitched and his hips jerked.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the shell of Jackson's ear, digging his palm into the front of his jeans. “Drive fast.”

Jackson did.


	2. Mark/Jaebum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the anon who wanted "daddy dom where Mark is a cute cross dressing sub and JB is a strict daddy Dom!"
> 
> Rating: NC-17
> 
> I apologize to Mark, JB, and the anon for this, but for very different reasons, because OMG this is the most graphic thing I have ever written even for TVXQ probably...but also to the anon, I just really failed at the whole dom/sub thing and I'm really sorry T_T

“This is so fucking awkward.”

Mark shifted from one foot to the other tugged on the lacy hem of a white lingerie Lolita dress with black ribbon and lace that Jaebum bought from a site he would never name, using a card no one knew he had. 

His mouth went dry as his eyes trailed up Mark’s legs, taking in the way his pale skin contrasted beautifully against the black stockings. He smirked when he caught the glint of the lacy black garter with white ribbon threaded through silver hoops, fastened around Mark’s right thigh. He had a matching collar around his neck.

“When you’ve stopped staring...” Mark grumbled, shifting his weight again.

He wrapped his arms around his torso. The long, loose curls of the wig Jaebum had _also_ purchased, hid Mark’s ears, but he was sure if he could see them, they would be bright red. He had never found anything more endearing in his life.

He licked his lips, and stood in one, fluid movement. Walking in slow, confident strides, his eyes shamelessly raked over Mark’s body, taking in the way the fabric clung to his slender frame and newly developed muscles. He knew every dip and sharp angle. Had them memorized. And still he felt the urge to run his tongue along Mark's exposed shoulders and collarbone like it was new territory.

Mark followed his movements with narrowed eyes as he stopped in front of him.

“You remember our deal?” he asked, his voice lifting into a teasing tone, knowing it would get under Mark’s skin. Because for his quiet nature and often unimposing presence, Mark was far from submissive. And that’s what he wanted. Hoping for. It would be no fun without a fight.

“I can’t believe you’re into this,” he replied tersely.

Jaebum smirked and held out his hand for the thing clutched in Mark’s fist.

“A deal’s a deal.”

Slowly, as if he was thinking of strangling Jaebum with it instead, Mark placed the thin, black leather leash in his hand.

“Good.”

Mark’s lips curled into a scowl.

They had discussed and talked about the boundaries. Jaebum knew exactly how far he could push and how hard before Mark put an end to it. And that was ok. He knew how to step right up to the edge and bring Mark with him. And tonight was all about pushing them right up to that edge and stepping over together.

He fastened the leash on the front ring of the collar, and gave it an experimental tug. Mark stepped forward, still eyeing him with a wary stare. He did not give up control easily. But he was giving it to Jaebum. For one night, Mark was handing over all of his insecurities, his trust, his control...

The thought sent a thrill of excitement through him, wrapped up in the love and affection Jaebum had for him.

He reached up to cup Mark’s cheek in the palm of his hand, and leaned in for a soft, reassuring kiss.

“Come here,” he whispered against his lips, winding the leash twice around his hand and walking backwards.

“You're not going to make me call you ‘daddy’ are you?” Mark muttered dryly, following him.

Jaebum smirked. “Why?” He sat on the edge of the bed.  “Would you like that?”

Mark shot him a withering look, and he doubled over, laughing. The tension shattered, and they were back to just them. Jaebum and Mark. Mark and Jaebum. Mark in a short, lace lingerie dress, and Jaebum, in thin, loose sweats and a tank top that was probably Mark's once, but had found its permanent way into Jaebum's dresser.

“I'm not calling you daddy,” a growl crept warningly into his voice.

Still grinning, he tugged on the leash again. Mark fell on top of him. Jaebum brought his hand up to brush the long brown strands of hair from his face.

“By the end of tonight…” he curled his hand around Mark’s neck and pressed his lips to the shell of his ear, his voice dropping to a deep purr. “I won't have to ask.”

He felt Mark shiver and reveled in it. It didn't matter how well they knew each other's bodies — there would always be a thrill in knowing his voice was enough.

“Fuck off.” Mark shoved at his chest, ears and cheeks flaming red.

Jaebum latched his arms around him, held him tight against his chest, and pressed a firm kiss to his lips. Mark relaxed against him, letting him in, sliding their tongues together in the familiar way that left Jaebum warm all over.

One hand trailed delicately down the soft skin left exposed by the open back of the dress, as the other reach up to grip the nape of his neck to draw him closer. Mark pulled back with a gasp as Jaebum’s fingers ghosted over the back of his thigh.

Jaebum pulled him forward into another kiss as he rolled them over, trapping Mark beneath him, pinning his hands above his head.

“Stay.” The whisper was harsh and commanding, and he felt Mark still.

Slowly, he sat up, releasing Mark’s wrists. Pleasure quivered through him when they remained over his head.

“A deal’s a deal, right?” Mark quirked an eyebrow at him, his voice low and laced with sarcasm.

He smirked in response and drew his tank top over his head. Mark’s eyes roamed over him shamelessly.

“No touching.” Jaebum kissed him. “Unless you want to be punished.” He tugged on the leash for emphasis.

Mark rolled his eyes.

“Close your eyes.”

He did, only after shooting Jaebum another irritable look.

Reaching over to the bedside drawer, he pulled out the things he prepared earlier.

“Do you know,” he breathed into Mark’s ear, one hand trailing up his inner thigh and under the lace, where he found Mark naked and hot beaneath his touch. “How fucking beautiful you are right now?”

Mark sucked in a slow, controlled breath as Jaebum wrapped his fingers around him and dragged his hand up the length of him. Still, he kept his hands above his head and his eyes closed as Jaebum stroked. Slow. Steady. Enough to make Mark twitch and roll his hips with an agonizing, needy moan.

The sound vibrated down Jaebum’s fucking _spine_.

“Now…” he smirked, pulling his hand away, and reaching for the first item. “Let’s play.”

Mark’s eyes flew open and he nearly bucked Jaebum off as he tightened the shining, black cock ring around him.

“You,” he gasped, bucking his hips again, “ _fucker_.”

Chuckling, Jaebum ran a teasing finger up Mark’s length, his eyes holding that devilish glint he had learned from years of watching Mark give the same one right before he unleashed his own hidden brand of mischief.

“If you’re good,” his finger ghosted over the ring. “I'll take this off.”

Mark glared at him. “Asshole.”

Jaebum wrapped the leash around his free hand and dragged Mark to his knees so they were both kneeling on the bed, facing each other. He leaned in and simply nuzzled Mark’s cheek.

“I’m going to have to punish you for that.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re into spanking.”

A slow, dangerous smile slid to his lips. “Oh no…” he ran his fingers through Mark’s wig. “Much worse.”

He ran his hands down the soft fabric of the dress one last time, before pulling at the ribbon in the front, and slowly stripping it off, exposing Mark’s pale skin and newly tone muscles. Jaebum tossed it unceremoniously to the floor and let his hands wander across Mark’s body. Exploring the dips and the angles he knew so well, letting his fingers tease around the garter he’d left on, and up Mark’s length, smirking when he hissed out a curse.

“Turn around.”

Mark eyed him warily before obeying.

Jaebum reached for his bedside table again, picking up the flat black leather cord he placed there earlier.

“Hands behind your back.”

Mark glared at him over his shoulder and he smirked back, already guiding Mark's arms behind him, so his forearms pressed together, bent at the elbow against his lower back. He took his time, winding the leather around his arms, up to his elbow, and finally knotting them around his wrists.

“I’ll untie you,” he purred, tugging on the restraints. “If you’re good.”

Mark snorted in reply as Jaebum reached for the lube. He pinned Mark into the wall at the head of the bed, pressing one, slick finger inside him.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Mark hissed as Jaebum forced in a second finger and stretched him slowly. “This isn’t our first fucking time, Jaebum.”

“Is that any way to ask?” he reached around with his free hand and wrapped his fingers around Mark again, stroking in time with the slow, gentle stretches as he pressed in a third finger.

Mark gasped and threw his head back so it rested on Jaebum’s shoulder.

“You want me to call you fucking daddy, then?” he breathed.

Jaebum caught his ear between his teeth.

“Why don’t you try it.”

“Fuck you.”

Chuckling, Jaebum spread his fingers wide before withdrawing them. He moved away just enough to slide his sweats off and discard them on the floor.

He forced Mark around so they were facing each other. Jaebum’s breath caught. Thoughts of going slow. Of taking his time and dragging out the night were lost in a haze of Mark’s lips on his. Of his hands on Mark’s hips as he dragged him forward to straddle his lap. Mark glared down at him as made a show of spreading lube down the length of himself, stroking in deliberate, unhurried movements, as his heart beat a steady rhythm of _faster faster faster_...

He lifted Mark, steadying him. “Sit.”

Mark sunk down, taking him in one, fluid movement that punched the air from his lungs in a single, delicious gasp, Jaebum wished he could reach up and swallow. He wrapped the leash around his hand and tugged Mark forward, capturing his lips between his teeth.

“Move.”

His body was on _fire_. Trapped in the tight heat of Mark rolling his hips above him, slowly lifting and sinking back down, his uneven breaths like a melody in Jaebum’s ears. He watched, pleasure coiling tight in his stomach, as Mark’s eyes locked onto his. They were half-lidded and blown with his own pleasure but Jaebum could see the spark of defiance behind him. The one that said Jaebum would always have to fight for every fucking inch.

Mark drove into him. Into his hand, fucking himself on Jaebum, hard and urgent and desperate. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Jaebum’s.

“Is this what you want?” he panted against Jaebum’s lips. “Daddy?”

The word sent sparks and waves and a fucking _storm_ of white hot pleasure through him. He shoved Mark off.

“ _Fuck!”_ he gasped as Jaebum pushed him against the wall again and slammed into him from behind.

Jaebum drove into him. Wild and erratic and _fuck_ if the world ended that night he wouldn’t care. He tugged on the leash, forced Mark’s head back and latched onto his neck, biting and sucking until it reddened and bruised beneath his lips.

“You’re so…” Jaebum growled into his ear, his hand trailing down the hard, twitching muscles of Mark’s stomach. “Fucking beautiful like this.”

He released the cock ring and wrapped his fingers around Mark, stroking in time with his thrusts.

Mark came with a breathy, needy cry that sent Jaebum tumbling over the edge after him.

“Let—” Mark panted, slumping against Jaebum’s chest. “—me go.”

Languidly, as if his limbs were made of liquid, Jaebum pulled out of him, clumsily untied the leather cord. They collapsed together, in a mess of tangle limbs and warm bodies as Jaebum removed the wig and unclasped the leash, tossing both to the floor, before sluggishly reaching for the box of tissues on his bedside table.

He cleaned them up and gathered Mark in his arms again, smiling into the warm, lazy kisses, lost in the haze that was everything between them. Every incoherent murmur full of love and affection and care. Every fight and heated argument. Everything that made Jaebum feel full and whole and _right._

“That’s not how I planned it,” he mumbled.

Mark scoffed and nuzzled into his neck.

“I am never calling you daddy again.”

Jaebum smiled and held him tighter. “But you’ll let me tie you up?” he teased.

Mark looked up at him with a devilish grin of his own, and leaned into another kiss. “Next time it won’t be me.”


	3. Jinyoung/Jackson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For dreams_about_sky who wanted: "Jackson practices cheesy pick up lines, and in turn, Jinyoung “practices” suggestive mimics and provocative skinship on him. The rest of GOT7 is torn between amusement and grossed out. General sentiment is “get a room.”
> 
> Rating: PG-13?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the pick-up lines are 100% things I looked up on Google. Even the last one. Same with the euphemisms. 
> 
> "Going to Hong Kong" is apparently a Korean euphemism for orgasm, and "sticky rice cakes" is apparently a euphemism for rough sex (which explains their use in "Bae Bae" so much).

 

It started as a joke. Their helpless giggling over Jackson's - either purposeful or inadvertent - ramen line during their GOT2DAY filming led to another half hour of scrolling through pick-up lines and sexual euphemisms like “Netflix and chill”. 

Jackson threw his head back in raucous laughter as they came across a list of euphemisms dating back to the 1300s.

“ _Fadoodling,”_ he gasped, clutching his side, shaking with uncontrollable laughter.

Jinyoung grinned next to him, fighting back the urge to let out much more than a small chuckle. Because he was an adult. A mature adult. And because watching Jackson was much more interesting.

A week later, Jackson was a walking encyclopedia of bad pick-up lines and sexual euphemisms.

“Are you a fruit,” Jackson flashed an exaggerated, lecherous grin at him backstage, “because Honeydew you know how fine you look right now?”

Jaebum, who had just been passing by, slowed and fixed Jackson with an incredulous, wide-eyed stare as Jinyoung covered his face and let out a loud, painful moan. No one except Jackson saw the smile hidden behind his hands.

They came when he least expected it: when he passed Jackson in the dorm on the way to the kitchen, as they climbed into their van for another schedule, right before they walked on stage…

“Ah, Jinyoung…” Jackson appeared behind him, catching his eye in the mirror of their dressing room. Jinyoung fought back a grin because he knew what was coming next. After several long moments of simply staring, Jackson said, “Nevermind…”

Jinyoung blinked, slightly disappointed. “What?”

Grinning, Jackson replied, “I was looking for a signature, because every masterpiece has one...where's yours?”

Jinyoung doubled over in laughter as Yugyeom scoffed next to him and Bambam wailed a pained, “ _It's been two weeks, please stop!”_

Mark, at least, seemed amused. 

One day, before a stage recording, Jinyoung found him whispering conspiratorially in Jackson's ear as they both grinned at him from across the dressing room.

"Jinyoung!" Jackson called over to him, Mark already laughing uncontrollably at his side. "Did you sit in a pile of sugar?" his grin widened. "Cause you have a pretty sweet ass!"

Jinyoung laughed, loud and full, delighted by the way the other members groaned and blushed and hid their faces in their hands. But mostly, he loved how Jackson _glowed_ under the attention and his laughter.

 

Soon, their jokes escalated into exaggerated shows of affection. Jinyoung would rest his arm on Jackson's thigh and curl his hand around his knee as he leaned into his shoulder and laughed at yet another pickup line. And when Jackson made a particularly lewd comment, Jinyoung would smirk and run his tongue teasingly across his lips.

Yugyeom had been between them for that one. It had taken several minutes before Jinyoung could stop laughing.

 

Another week later, as they waited backstage before a fansign, Jackson collapsed on the couch between Mark and Jinyoung, and flung his arm around Jinyoung's shoulders.

“I was feeling a little off today, but you turned me on,” he stage whispered into his ear.

Mark rolled his eyes, and promptly stretched out, kicking Jackson not-too-gently in the side.

 

During the fansign, Jinyoung fought to keep his smiles directed at fans rather than Jackson’s mutters of, “Have you been to the doctor lately? Cause I think you're lacking some Vitamin Me,” and “My doctor says I'm lacking Vitamin U.”

As the last fan moved from Jackson to Jaebum, Jinyoung gripped his knee and leaned into him.

Jackson grinned and murmured, “Let's get some ramen and go to Hong Kong.”

Jinyoung lost it in front of hundreds of fans, flushed and giddy and saved on every camera trained on them.

Next to him, Youngjae looked at him worryingly as he stood to move to the front of the stage, microphone already in hand.

Still laughing, Jinyoung waved a hand at him, silently letting him know everything was ok. When he looked back at Jackson, he saw something mischievous and heated behind his gaze that had never been there before. And Jinyoung felt thrill run through him the same way adrenaline did on a roller-coaster right before the first drop.

 

* * *

 

“Hey Jinyoung,” Jackson leaned into him and slid his hand to the inside of Jinyoung’s thigh as they waited in the back of the van for the rest of the members. His lips were so close, Jinyoung could feel him smirk against the shell of his ear 

“I was wondering if you had an extra heart...mine seems to have been stolen.”

Jinyoung snorted, and turned to look at him. They were so close now, he could almost count every eyelash and feel Jackson’s breath against his lips. Jackson leaned forward, just enough that all Jinyoung had to do was close the gap. Tilt his head in just the right way—

“Ah! I'm so hungry!” Yugyeom announced his rather inconvenient presence as he and Mark approached. “Let's get chicken tonight, chicken!”

Outside, climbing into the other van, Jaebum shouted something that was almost definitely a dissent. Seconds later, Mark pulled himself into their van, barely sparing them a glance as he settled into his seat and promptly put his headphones on, closing his eyes and ignoring the world.

Slowly, Jinyoung and Jackson separated and put a careful distance between them that did nothing to ease the tension that hung in the air and persistently tugged at Jinyoung's insides to pull Jackson towards him again.

As Yugyeom clamored in and shut the door behind him, their manager slid into the driver's seat and looked at them through the rear view mirror.

“Jackson, Jinyoung, what do you want for dinner?”

Jackson glanced at Jinyoung, before looking back at their manager with a grin. “Sticky rice cakes.”

Jinyoung choked.

“That's...not dinner…” their manager replied, looking at them in concern as Jinyoung coughed uncontrollably.

Jackson eyes widened innocently as he used Jinyoung's coughing fit as an excuse to run his hand over his back. “I _really_ want some, _hyung.”_

Sighing, their manager shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he pulled onto the highway.

 

Once they returned to the apartment, Yugyeom, Jaebum, and Bambam piled in front of the TV for a drama all three had gotten hooked onto; Youngjae and Mark retreated to their room; and Jinyoung snuck into his, with Jackson following close behind.

Jackson grinned as he shut the door behind him. He reached for Jinyoung and curled his fingers through the front of his shirt. "Your lips look lonely..." he pulled Jinyoung closer, "would they like to meet mine?"

Jinyoung had just enough time to snort back a laugh before Jackson's lips were on his. Soft and gentle and patient. Jackson kissed him like time didn't pass in seconds and minutes and hours and days. Like they had forever. And Jinyoung melted into it. Stepped forward and pressed Jackson into the glass door, running his fingers through the coarse blond hair, drinking in everything Jackson was giving him.

They parted, foreheads pressed together, breathless and flushed and refusing to separate more than the inches they had already forced themselves.

"Did you know?" he whispered, bringing his hand up and wrapping it around Jinyoung's neck. "There are three people I love in the world."

He kissed Jinyoung's cheek. "You whom I loved in the past."

Jackson kissed his jaw. "You whom I love now."

His lips trailed back to Jinyoung's. "And you whom I'll love, forever."


	4. Jackson/Jaebum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a-human-being-boy-girl, who wanted "Jackbum where Jaebum realizes Jackson really is short, but like only because he is always wearing shoes with heel implants"
> 
> Rating: G  
> Genre: Fluff, AU
> 
> Summary: AU where Jackson is a celebrity. Jaebum is his new bodyguard, and discovers Jackson isn't nearly as tall as everyone thinks he is.

There were several things that came with being a bodyguard – protecting among the most obvious of duties. But when Jaebum started as part of Jackson Wang’s security detail, he expected a lot less café runs for green tea and a lot more pushing through hoards of screaming girls at airports.

He expected a nice, professional relationship, with rules and protocols and some _goddamn_ _boundaries._

_‘Hyung!!!’_

His phone buzzed with the first message, from where it sat on his coffee table. Jaebum sighed when he saw Jackson's name. It was his _first_ day off after a week in Japan and another in China. His cat was curled in his lap, and he was _just_ reaching that point in his book, where it was almost painful to look away from the page as his phone buzzed again. 

_‘You need to get here now’_

_‘Right now.’_

He frowned, watching more messages flood his phone before he finally reached for it. Nora jumped down, threw him a disgruntled look, and stalked off towards the kitchen. Sighing, he looked at the last message.

_‘I'm going to literally die if you don't.’_

He rolled his eyes. The worry threatening to bubble over, quickly receded. If Jackson was being dramatic he at least hadn't been kidnapped. Probably.  

_‘Please!!'_

This time he sent a cute crying emoji, and Jaebum sighed again.

An hour later, he was punching in the key code to Jackson's apartment that he had given to Jaebum on his way over.

“Jackson?” he called, toeing off his shoes and walking through apartment.

It was much like Jackson himself – order hidden among chaos, and shockingly modest for a celebrity. It was twice the size of Jaebum’s apartment, with all black furniture that looked modern and expensive, even buried under mismatched pillows, fan gifts, and clothes. He noted with some amusement an entire corner stacked nearly to the ceiling with plush Squirtle toys.

“Yah!” he called again, worry creeping into his voice as he walked through the apartment. “Jackson!”

“Jaebum-ah!” Jackson cried with relief as Jaebum entered the kitchen.

 _"Hyung,"_ he corrected automatically, his brows knitting together in confusion when he saw Jackson. “What are you doing on the table?”

Jackson was crouched on his kitchen table with his arms wrapped around his legs, in his socks, disheveled blond hair, a pair of sweats, and swimming in a hoodie two sizes too big. His eyes were wide and pleading as he looked up at Jaebum. He pointed at the floor.

Jaebum looked down. A small, brown cockroach twitched its antenna as if acknowledging Jaebum from its spot wedged between the floor and the counter.

“You called me at _eleven-o'clock_ on my _night off_ for a _cockroach?”_ he looked up at Jackson, incredulous and angry and amused all at once

“It's _huge!”_

_"You're more than a hundred times its size!”_

_“Hyung_ , please!” Jackson looked at him pathetically.

Cursing, he snatched a glass and a piece of paper. He was _so_ not stepping on a cockroach in a pair of slippers – even if they _were_ borrowed from Jackson and he would have deserved having the bottoms of them covered in crushed roach solely for making Jaebum do this at all...

After trapping the cockroach and setting it loose off the balcony, he returned inside to see Jackson warily climbing off the table.

“You’ll need to call an exterminator,” he said evenly, placing the glass in the sink before leaning against the counter, crossing his arms as he looked at Jackson.

“You think there's more?” he wailed, looking frantically around the kitchen as if another cockroach was waiting to pounce the moment he let his guard down.

He watched as Jackson paced around his kitchen, looking at each corner and under the table, even opening a few cabinets, standing on tip-toe to reach the higher one above his fridge. Jaebum coughed back a laugh.

“What?” Jackson turned to look at him.

“You’re…ah…” he coughed again, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “Smaller than I thought.”

He watched in amusement as Jackson’s eyes widened and his cheeks flushed red. In just his socks, he was nearly two inches shorter than Jaebum was used to.

“I never noticed,” he was grinning now. “I didn't know they made insoles that thick,” he teased. 

“Never,” Jackson pointed at him, eyes wide. “Tell anyone!”

Still grinning, Jaebum looked at him. "I guess it's true when they say celebrities look different on TV."

Jackson let out a loud moan, and pulled at his hair. _"Hyung!"_

Jaebum laughed, full and rich and full of that thing he couldn’t place a name to but knew it belonged only to Jackson. In that moment, it didn’t matter that Jackson had called him on his only day off. He was here, and in front of him, and Jaebum couldn’t think of anywhere else he wanted to be.

Before he could stop himself. Remind himself that Jackson was his employer, and this was definitely very out-of-bounds of what was considered _appropriate_ for a bodyguard, he pushed himself off the counter and walked towards Jackson, stopping just in front of him. It was...different. Endearing. Seeing Jackson looking _up_ at him rather than eye-level. How had Jaebum never noticed before...

His teasing grin softened into something warm and affectionate, and _fuck_ Jackson was beautiful with his messy hair and bare face and over-sized hoodie...

He reached up and cupped the back of his neck. A habit. A friendly gesture Jackson was used to. Jaebum rubbed his thumb along the soft hairs of his neck.

"I like it..."

Jackson raised an eyebrow at him. "Like what?"

He shrugged. "You're— ah..." he coughed, "cute...like this...your height..."

Jackson's eyes widened, and Jaebum quickly let go, clearing his throat, and looking awkwardly around the kitchen at anything _but_ Jackson. God damn it he was _blushing_.

"I...uh...t-thanks..." Jackson mumbled, looking at the floor. When Jaebum glanced at him, he saw a faint tinge of pink dusted across his cheeks.

The stood in the kitchen, a heavy, charged silence stretched between them, before Jaebum finally spoke.

"I should...go..." his voice deeper than usual, as he stepped away from Jackson, who looked up, and immediately lunged for him, grabbing the edge of his sleeve in a vice grip.

Jaebum stopped and looked at him in confusion.

"Why don't you...uh...stay..." Jackson's eyes locked on him. Jaebum could see the uncertainty in them. The nervous anticipation of Jaebum's answer. "I mean...in case there's...another cockroach."

Grinning, Jaebum let himself have a moment when he wasn't Jackson's bodyguard. A moment to let the things he kept carefully hidden away, engulf him like heat from a fire on the coldest nights – warm and comforting and full of things that sunk bone deep and stayed there forever...

"Sure..." he reached up and brushed Jackson's bangs from his face. "I'll stay."


	5. Jackson/Jaebum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THESE ARE TAKING SO LONG!!!!
> 
> I didn't initially plan on posting tonight, but I suppose this will be my Christmas gift!
> 
> For the anon who wanted: Jaeson; JB is a teacher and opens his door to see Jackson, his student with all the luggage, giving him a rebel look. Also the letter from Jackson's parent which says that they leave Jackson to him while they prepare their wedding. Smut & fluff.
> 
> Going by international age, Jackson is 18; JB is 25; by Korean age, Jackson is 19, JB is 26.
> 
> Rating: NC-17
> 
> I hope you see this anon and that I didn't take to long!! And I especially hope you like it T__T I had a really hard time because this story BEGGED to be a slowburn kind of fic, and it's so hard to do that in a one-shot!
> 
> These will ALL get done! I am just grossly slow!! Merry Christmas or happy holidays or Happy New Year, or whatever! <3

When Jackson showed up at his apartment near midnight, Jaebum wished he could have said he was surprised. He had his school bag slung over one shoulder, a duffel in one hand, and something clutched in the other. He fixed Jaebum with a petulant, stubborn look as if asking, _when the fuck are you going to let me in?_

Sighing, Jaebum stepped aside, letting him pass. Jackson shoved a white envelope into Jaebum's chest and dropped his bags in the entrance. Jaebum's name was neatly scrawled on it in black ink. 

“Fucker kicked me out of the house finally,” he muttered, toeing off his shoes and stalking into the apartment.

 _Fucker_ , Jaebum knew, was his mother’s new fiancé. A man Jaebum had never met, but had heard more than enough about.

He followed Jackson into the living room, and watched him collapse onto the couch.

 _This isn't fucking normal_ , he thought.

At some point, Jackson loitering in the music room after class morphed into weaseling out free meals from Jaebum, which had then turned into Jackson following him home, and had now ended in him spending the night at Jaebum’s apartment so often that he had _clothes_ there.

He knew. He _knew_ normal teachers didn’t have students showing up at their homes in the middle of the night. Just like he knew the way he looked at Jackson wasn’t the way teachers were supposed to look at their students. And knew his insides weren’t supposed to tug at him when their eyes met.

And yet.

There Jackson was.

A familiar sight in his small living room, glaring up at him as Jaebum’s cat trotted into the room and jumped onto the couch next to him.

And there Jaebum was. Wanting to reach out and thread his fingers through the coarse blond hair that made him look so much older than 18.

He carefully sunk onto the arm of the couch, a reasonable, safe distance from Jackson, and opened the envelope. It was a letter from Jackson’s mother.

Jaebum read through it. He had met Jackson’s mother on only two occasions — once at the beginning of his 3rd year, when Jaebum was a new teacher, and again during the parent-teacher meetings in the fall. She was a kind, warm woman, who loved her son dearly. It seemed odd to be receiving a letter from her. Odder still, that it was asking him to take care of Jackson until graduation so she could concentrate on wedding preparations.

Jaebum remembered when his mother became engaged the previous spring. He had only just started his first term as a music instructor at the Seoul International School of Arts, when he found Jackson in the music room, pounding out angry notes on a keyboard. Jaebum had asked him why he wasn’t at fencing practice, and received a glare in return. It was the moment Jaebum remembered most vividly. The moment their relationship shifted, and Jaebum’s gaze started lingering a little too long when he caught sight of Jackson. When his fingers twitched with the need to reach out and touch some part of him.

He quickly turned back to the letter, shoving away the thoughts that both taunted and suffocated him.

 _‘We are moving back to Hong Kong after we get married,’_ it said, _‘Jackson has friends and a future in Korea. I don’t want him to give that up. I don't want him to think he has to leave.’_

He looked up at Jackson, who was staring at the television, not really seeing it. Like that, he looked exactly his age — 18, vulnerable, misunderstood, and feeling abandoned by his mother for a guy he called a variety of creative, insulting names in lieu of an actual one.

“Did you read this letter?” he asked, holding it up, already knowing the answer before Jackson shrugged.

“They’re moving to Hong Kong,” he scowled. “He’s officially moving in this weekend and wants me out of the house...like fuck I’d live with him anyway.”

He sighed. “Jackson…”

Jackson turned his glare to him, and Jaebum’s heart sunk. Jackson could scowl and glare and spit out curses and they would never erase the hurt Jaebum saw in that moment.

“You know she loves you,” was all he could say.

Jackson scoffed and looked away again.

“And you’re always welcome here,” he added quietly. “You know that.”

After a tense silence, Jaebum stood. “Just stay here for the night and I’ll talk to the school and your mother in the morning.”

He turned, ready to grab the blanket and pillow Jackson used whenever he spent the night, when Jackson reached for him. He held Jaebum in a gentle grip, his thumb rubbing into the soft skin on the inside of his wrist.

“Thanks, _hyung.”_

_Hyung._

The word slipped from Jackson's lips and down Jaebum's throat like the warmest drink.

He corrected Jackson. Once. Before Jaebum looked at him with a lingering gaze and a painful sort of longing. He knew he should have done it again. And again and again until Jackson's presence wasn't like being in front of a fire — wild and warm and beautiful.

He knew, with unwavering certainty, that the way he looked at Jackson wasn't the way he was supposed to look at him. Knew he shouldn't have felt his skin burn where Jackson touched him. Just like he knew, when Jackson stood, he should have stepped back. And when he leaned forward, Jaebum should have stopped him.

The soft press of lips against his own, stuttered his pulse. Like his heart wasn’t sure if it wanted to stop or hammer its way out of his chest. And the thing that wrapped guiltily around his throat was the knowledge that this wasn’t this first time.

The first time, they had been sitting at the piano bench after school, long after most students and teachers had already gone home.

The first time, Jaebum hadn't leaned in. Hadn't let himself a moment to simply feel Jackson's lips against his. To show Jackson he was wanted and longed for and — terrifyingly, he admitted — loved.

Reluctantly, he reached up, allowing a moment to slide his hand around Jackson's neck and give a gentle squeeze, before the other pushed him away.

“You can’t keep doing this,” he said, hating the sadness that threatened to overwhelm him.

Jackson scowled, then pushed him away.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, “I'll go to Jinyoung's.”

Jaebum caught his arm as Jackson tried to shove past him. The words stung.

“Stay.”

Jackson glared at him, and he sighed.

“We've been through this, Jackson,” he said, fighting the urge to pull him closer. “We— I'm your teacher…” he added. The words tasted like poison on his tongue.

Jackson tried to shake free but Jaebum held on tighter.

And maybe it was the hurt etched onto Jackson's face pulling so painfully at his heart that made Jaebum tug him forward. Or the longing that was always there...waiting. Waiting for Jaebum to give in. Waiting for the mistake he couldn't make.

He never wanted to see the look on Jackson's face. Not because of him.

He tugged Jackson forward and pressed their lips together. Kissing him gently. Full of all the promises he wanted to make and all the ones he could never keep.

A soft noise like a whimper escaped Jackson's throat as he pressed his body against Jaebum's and wrapped his free hand around the back of his neck. Jaebum let the hand not still holding onto Jackson's slide around his waist.

Whatever walls he had put between them fractured and cracked and tumbled down in a haze of sliding tongues and shared breaths. He wondered if this was what writers meant when they said time stopped. Or maybe it simply didn’t matter anymore. Whether seconds, minutes, hours, days, passed, the only thing Jaebum knew was he never wanted to let go of the feel of Jackson’s body pressed against his.

“Stay,” he breathed, carding his fingers through Jackson’s hair.

Jackson looked up at him. Dazed. As if he had just woken from a particularly vivid dream and hadn't quite come out of it yet. Jaebum kissed him again.

 

In the morning, he told himself not to regret it. That the moment he had let himself tumble over the edge of the cliff he had been dangerously inching towards for months, there was no climbing back up. It was much easier to convince himself when he lay in bed, mind whirring, body restless with the knowledge that Jackson was asleep on the couch just one room away.

After a sleepless night of pushing away images of tangled limbs and lips against skin, skin against skin, he found the couch empty, with the blankets and pillow neatly piled on the end of it. Jackson’s school bag was gone but Nora was curled on his duffel next to the arm chair.

The worry creeping into him ebbed away as he picked up the note on the coffee table. Jackson had gone to school early.

He dressed quickly, and caught the early bus.

As he approached the school, he felt a growing sense of anxiety.

_You kissed Jackson._

_You kissed an 18-year-old._

_You kissed your student…_

Over and over the words repeated themselves. So much that he could barely concentrate when he taught. Whenever he looked at his students, guilt stabbed at his gut. Teachers weren't supposed to fall in love with their students. And yet Jaebum had.

The first time Jaebum saw Jackson that day was when he walked into Jaebum's music theory class, with Park Jinyoung on one side, and Mark Tuan on the other. Jaebum felt a stir of irritation. Mark's arm was slung casually around Jackson's neck. And Jaebum wanted to fling it off. He gave himself a mental shake and forced his gaze away just as Jackson glanced over.

Once everyone settled in, he fell into routine. Even with Jackson sitting in his usual seat at the far back, he found himself able to think clearly for the first time that day, and teach as if his heart didn't skip a beat every time Jackson caught his eye. By the time class ended, Jaebum had almost _— almost —_ convinced himself he could take back everything and pull himself back to the place he was supposed to be. The place where he taught music and Jackson pretended to listen at the back of the class. The place where Jaebum didn't feel betraying tug of want whenever he thought of Jackson...

“Did you talk to my mother?”

Jackson stood in front of him, eyes careful, guarded, wary...

He wanted to curl his fingers around his loose tie and pull Jackson forward. Slip his hands under the un-tucked shirt…

He glanced behind Jackson's shoulder and saw Mark and Jinyoung lingering near the doorway. He straightened the papers on the podium, just to have something to do.

“I did…” he had talked to her during his free period just before class. The guilt twisted his gut when she thanked him for taking care of her son. Would she bring Jackson home, he had wondered, if Jaebum told her…

“I talked to the school, too,” he continued, avoiding Jackson's eyes, still fidgeting with his papers. “You can stay.”

He wasn't expecting the arms that flung around his neck. Stumbling back, he grabbed Jackson around the waist to steady them.

“Thanks, _hyung_.”

Jackson's words were deep and quiet and Jaebum felt the urge to hold him tighter.

“I told you not to call me that at school,” he muttered, forcing himself away as casually as he could, hyper-aware of Mark and Jinyoung watching them.

Grinning, Jackson hugged him again.

“See you at home.”

 _Home_.

Hearing that word from Jackson’s lips planted something deep inside him. It had come so easily. So naturally. And when Jackson returned home that night after fencing, his school uniform in its usual state of disarray, it took root. Grew uncontrollably until Jaebum felt it in his veins.

And when Jackson kissed him, it was like standing in the middle of a fire without getting burned. Jackson’s hand cupped his face and it felt like flames licking at his skin.

“Just checking…” he rested his forehead against Jaebum’s, eyes closed, breath hot against Jaebum’s lips. “I’m allowed to do that right…”

“Yeah…” he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Jackson’s waist. "Yeah you are.”

 

* * *

 

Jaebum sat on the couch, his head resting against the back of it, eyes closed. His music theory exams lay in front of him only half graded.

 _“Hyung.”_ Jackson's voice eased the tension from his muscles and chased away the oncoming headache.

Seconds later, a weight settled into his lap. Jackson straddled his waist, wrapping his arms around Jaebum's neck, and pressing their lips together.

Sighing into the kiss, he slid his arms up Jackson's thighs and around his lower back.

It had been two weeks since Jackson showed up clutching his letter. Two weeks since Jaebum let himself melt into Jackson's kisses without pushing him away.

It still felt strange. At home, the warmth and comfort of Jackson's presence was like a living dream. An illusion broken only by the reality of seeing Jackson at the back of his classroom or hearing his raucous laughter carrying through the halls as he moved between classes.

His hand slipped just under the hem of Jackson's school shirt, and simply let the feel of skin beneath his fingers sink in and fill him with warmth. A soft noise caught the back of Jackson's throat as he moved his lips to Jaebum's jaw, down his neck. His hands roaming to the front of his shirt, working at the buttons until it fell open. The cool air was chased away by Jackson's hands splayed across his stomach, fingers tracing along the muscles that twitched under his touch.

Jaebum sucked in a sharp breath. The pleasure coiled tight and deep inside him and he tried to forced it back. But then Jackson was working at his belt and reality crashed back into him. Cold and sudden and painful.

He reached down and forced Jackson's hands away. When he looked up, the breath left Jaebum’s lungs. Jackson's dark, hooded eyes seemed bottomless. As if the longer Jaebum stared, the more they drew him closer to the edge again. Enticing him into another mistake he so desperately wanted to make.

“What are you doing?” he breathed unsteadily.

Jackson smirked and tugged his hands from Jaebum's grip, making quick work of the buckle and the button of his jeans. He rested his forehead against Jaebum’s, fingers toying with the zipper.

“Thanking you,” his voice dropped to a rough, deep purr.

Jaebum fought back the sound threatening escape at the back of his throat as Jackson cupped him through his jeans. He could already feel the heat pooling low and dangerous, growing hard under the feel of Jackson on top of him and his hand rubbing against him. He wanted to feel Jackson's hand on him. Wanted so badly. But those words…

 _‘Thanking you,’_ was not how he wanted Jackson to view whatever was between them. Like it was an obligation. A quid-pro-quo. Jaebum's home for his body...

“You’re always taking care of me…” Jackson drew down the zipper and kissed him.

“This isn't why—” Jaebum pulled away from the kiss, his breaths coming out in uneven pants as he struggled to keep control. He felt hurt and guilty and shameful again.  “You don't have to—”

Jackson kissed him again.

“I want to,” he whispered against his lips before slowly sliding out of Jaebum’s lap and onto his knees on the floor between his legs.

Jackson gazed up at him, insolent and beautiful. And Jaebum felt himself slip again. Off the edge of another cliff. 

He sucked in a sharp breath when Jackson impatiently tugged his jeans down to his thighs, bringing his briefs with them. He looked away in embarrassment as Jackson gazed at him, hard and bare and so fully exposed.

Warm fingers wrapped carefully, almost curiously around him.

Jaebum cursed and reached down to stop him, but Jackson fixed him with another stubborn glare. His protest — the side that brought him into reality outside of the world they somehow created together within the walls of the apartment — was lost in a harsh breath as Jackson stroked up experimentally. He smirked at the sound that caught in the back of Jaebum’s throat.

He stroked up again, then leaned down, wrapping his lips around the tip.

“Jackson—” he gasped again, throwing his head against the back of the couch. The guilt and the pure _pleasure_ of having Jackson’s mouth on him whirled into a dizzying haze of warmth and electricity.

He meant to reach down. To forced Jackson off him. He couldn’t do this. It was fucking _wrong_ and all Jaebum could do was curl his fingers in Jackson’s hair and tug.

Jackson was clumsy but confident. He licked up the length of him. Sucked lightly at the tip, used his hand to stroke up as his lips slid down, taking as much of Jaebum as he could, before dragging them back up.

When he looked down, the sight of Jackson’s lips — pink and wet and stretched around him — was so _right and wrong and beautiful_ in the most terrifying of ways. It was the kind of fear that came with realizing he was in love.

“Jackson—!” he shoved at Jackson’s shoulder in warning. “Jackson— _fuck!”_

He bucked his hips up just as Jackson slid his mouth down. He felt himself hit the back of Jackson’s throat. Jackson choked around him, trying to swallow Jaebum’s release. Unfamiliar and inexperienced and determined to take as much as Jaebum would give him.

“ _Jesus_ …” he panted, loosening his grip on Jackson’s hair and letting his head fall back again.

What Jackson couldn’t swallow smeared across his chin and cheeks. Jaebum reached down to clean it off with the sleeve of his shirt, smiling a bit as Jackson climbed back in his lap and wrapped his arms around Jaebum’s neck.

“Was it good, _hyung?”_ he breathed, all the confidence from before shattering in just a few, simple words. He leaned in. “Did you like it?”

Jaebum could feel Jackson through his uniform. He was hard and wanting and looking at Jaebum with an open expression that sent warmth coiling through his already heavy limbs.

“Yeah…” he smiled carded his fingers through Jackson’s hair. “You did wonderful.”

Jaebum thought it was all romantic nonsense when he watched dramas or read novels that described kisses so poetically. But he understood, now. Kissing Jackson made him feel _alive_. They were tender and slow and Jaebum felt himself wishing they could just stay there forever. Jackson slowly rocking against him as Jaebum's hands rested on his hips.

It wasn't wrong, was it, he thought, letting his hands slide under Jackson's shirt again. To be so fully in love with a single person. His student.

Jackson's slow, lazy kisses turned harsher. Demanding. His teeth tugged on Jaebum's bottom lip and his tongue licked into his mouth, and his hips drove down harder, looking for more.

Jaebum pulled back with a gasp. Already feeling the pleasure coiling low again.

 _Too fast_ , he thought, letting Jackson pull him up.

Jackson's lips never left his as they stumbled into his bedroom, pushing Jaebum's open shirt off his shoulders, and stripping himself of his own as they tumbled down to the mattress.

His mind and his heart were in two different places.

He told himself to slow down. To rebuild the boundaries and the walls he had put up long after he knew they'd already been destroyed.

Jackson lifted his hips and let Jaebum slide off his school slacks.

 _This isn't right_.

He reached for his bedside drawer.

 _He's your fucking student_.

Jackson wrapped his legs around Jaebum's waist as a slick finger pressed slowly inside him. His eyes closed, his brows knitting together in discomfort.

Jaebum leaned forward, pressed a kiss between his eyes, whispering something neither he nor Jackson would remember after, as he pressed in a second finger. Stretching him slowly, carefully.

He kissed Jackson's cheek, whispered his name.

"I'm not going to fucking break," Jackson panted beneath him, tightening his legs around Jaebum's waist and moving his hips impatiently, forcing Jaebum's fingers deeper.

Jaebum grinned a bit and slid in a third finger, stretching him wide and slow, loving the way Jackson hissed and moved into his touch.

"Haven't you ever heard of patience?" he laughed quietly, pulling his fingers from him, and grabbed the condom off the bedside table. He rolled it on slowly, loving the way Jackson's eyes followed with the kind of hunger Jaebum knew must have reflected in his own as he slicked himself and settled between Jackson's legs again.

Jaebum kissed him as he slowly pressed inside. He was still so _tight_. The heat surrounded him. Clenched and relaxed around him as Jaebum worked his way deeper. Rocking his hips in a slow, steady rhythm, whispering praises and incoherent murmurs of endearment. Tucking them between soft curses and strangled gasps. Jacksons throat vibrated against his lips as he kissed and sucked at the skin. It was all so overwhelming. Jaebum felt like he was on fire and drowning all at once.

 _"Hyung—"_ Jackson gasped as Jaebum wrapped his hand around him and stroked.

He marveled at Jackson's beauty. The way he threw his head back against the pillow, exposing the length of his neck, bruised and reddened from Jaebum's kisses. The way he moaned out Jaebum's name as he pressed faster, deeper into him.

If this was all he ever had in life — if he had to give everything up for another moment like this — it would be enough.  

"Jackson-ah," he pressed his lips to the shell of Jacksons ear, his free hand lacing their fingers together, pressing Jackson's hand into the mattress. "You're doing so good," he breathed, slowly pulling out and sliding back in. "So good..."

Another sound escaped from Jackson's throat. He tightened his legs around Jaebum's waist. Clenched around him. Met each thrust with the same kind of desperation Jaebum felt coursing through him.

Jaebum's name fell from his lips. "Jaebum—" he gasped _"—hyung."_

Pleasure crashed through him. He thrust hard into Jackson, captured his lips in a bruising kiss, rode through the desire, the longing, the fucking _love_ he had for him. His veins were like live wires, humming and sparking under his skin. Driving him forward. He murmured Jackson's name again.

With a strangled cry, Jackson's own release spilled between them, coating Jaebum's hands, and across his stomach.

Jaebum kissed him softly. Coaxing him through, rocking against him, slowly bringing them both down.

He pulled out carefully, smoothed Jackson's brow when he grimaced and pressed a kiss between his eyes. Another to his temple, and another to his cheek.

Reluctantly, he left Jackson's arms, pulling off the condom and tying it. Jackson whined as he stood.

Grinning, he leaned down for another kiss.

"One minute..."

He tossed the condom and returned with a warm, wet towel.

Once Jackson was cleaned up and back in Jaebum's arms, their legs tangled together, Jaebum kissed him again. Slow and languid and lazy until Jackson's eyes drifted close.

The edge he had leapt from, the one he desperately reached out for and dangled from when reality hit and tried to pull him back onto solid ground, fell away from him. At the bottom, Jaebum only saw Jackson. Standing, waiting to catch him.


	6. Jackson/Jaebum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For dreamsaboutsky who requested Jackbum in their trainee days!
> 
> Happy New Year, everyone!
> 
> Rating: G  
> Genre: Fluff

Jaebum was used to new trainees. They came and went like a revolving door, some lasting longer than others, some moving on to different companies, others disappearing back into normal life. He was even used to miming things out for foreign trainees when they first arrived. Used to communicating with gestures and smiles and simple Korean. Most were quiet. Shy. Uncertain and hesitant about using the language. Afraid of their accents or improper grammar.

Then he met Jackson Wang. 

When Mark walked into the training room chatting in English with a guy he had never seen before, Jaebum assumed that one of his American friends had come for a visit. Jaebum watched as the guy gazed excitedly around the room with a bright, cheerful smile, as he rattled off questions so quickly Jaebum wondered if he ever took a breath. Mark responded in his slow, quiet way, pointing around the room and gesturing towards the other trainees. When he spotted Jaebum, he smiled.

“Jaebum!”

When Mark introduced him to Jackson, Jaebum had smiled. Welcomed him like he always did, with the expectation of seeing him disappear before the year was over. It was a common occurrence. The language and culture differences often caused most foreign trainees to return home not long after joining. And like the Korean trainees, the rigors of training often left them burned out and homesick.

Jackson, he would soon learn, wasn’t like the other trainees that came and went. He wasn’t like _anyone_ Jaebum had ever met. Jackson was an unstoppable force of energy, saying and doing things as he pleased. He laughed loudly, talked constantly, and was endlessly curious. If he didn’t know something, he asked or made things up. And he treated everyone like he had known them for years, even if it had only been minutes.

“Hey B-boy King!” became Jackson’s standard “good morning” or “hello” whenever he saw Jaebum. Usually as he bounded into the practice room, a bright smile on his face, his hand outstretched, ready to clasp Jaebum’s in a friendly, familiar way.

Jaebum, still not entirely sure _how_ to process the living embodiment of energy, replied with a dazed, “E-euh…”

Jackson’s face fell a bit, and Jaebum immediately felt bad. But before he could apologize, Jackson was bouncing over to Mark and Bambam, who were pouring over the Korean homework they clearly left until the last minute. Sighing, he told himself it was fine. Jackson probably wouldn’t last anyway…

 

* * *

 

The first time Jaebum heard Jackson sing was during the monthly evaluation. Imperfect and raw, Jackson’s voice held something deep and wonderful. Jaebum remembered being unable to look away as he sang. Full of emotion and the sleepless nights Jackson spent preparing for his first evaluation.

 _Maybe_ , he thought with some hope, _this one won’t leave._

 

* * *

 

The first time they fought — really truly fought — Jaebum thought it would be over something bigger. Jackson not practicing hard enough, making a mistake on the choreography, or addressing someone older than him impolitely…

Instead, it was over several bags of counterfeit clothes and pants with _HIKE_ down the side that Jackson had bought on his first shopping trip.

“Yah...you really are an idiot,” looked at Jackson with both pity and annoyance. “You were scammed.”

Jackson's excited smile fell, and Jaebum immediately felt sorry.

“What do you mean?”

Jaebum held up the clearly counterfeit _HIKE_ pants, his eyebrow raised as if no words were needed.

Jackson snatched them from his hands, a blush creeping to his cheeks. “They gave me a discount! A big one!”

Jaebum sighed. “You really are naive…”

What Jackson said after, and how he replied, Jaebum would never remember. Just that it ended with him standing, facing Jackson as he yelled and cursed in a mix of English and Korean and Cantonese. And Jaebum would respond with biting, harsh words that Jackson only understood half of, which only made him angrier.

Then Jackson was storming out of the practice room, and Jaebum was pacing, running his hand through his hair, irritable and on edge and ready to snap at the first person unlucky enough to get in his way.

“Well that was tactful.” Jinyoung’s voice deadpanned behind him.

Jaebum spun. Only he, Jinyoung, and Mark were left after the other trainees wisely escaped while Jaebum and Jackson sparred. Jinyoung was fixing him with an unimpressed look, one eyebrow raised, his arms crossed over his chest. Mark looked impassive as ever, though Jaebum could see in his eyes that he thought Jaebum had gone too far.

“Yah...it's not my fault he overreacted,” he said stubbornly, clinging on to the last bit of anger he had left. He jabbed his finger at the clothes still laying on the floor. “I was only telling him the truth!”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes and Mark sighed, turning to leave.

“I'll go talk to Jackson…” he muttered.

Once he was gone, Jaebum collapsed to the floor. He raked his hands irritably through his hair again.

“You know how he is,” Jinyoung said quietly. “And he's still unfamiliar with things here…”

Jaebum knew. He knew Jackson was trusting and easy to fool. He also knew Jackson was just as easy to hurt. They had only known each other for a few months and yet Jaebum already knew all of this, because Jackson was honest and expressive and wore his heart on his sleeve. Knowing that someone had taken advantage of that, made anger boil under his skin.

Sighing, he looked at the abandoned clothes, guilt finally settling in. He was such an asshole.

“I'll talk to him.”

He found them outside, Mark leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, watching Jackson pace irritably back and forth as he ranted in a mix of English and Mandarin.

Jaebum approached just in time to hear Mark reply shortly in Mandarin, following in English with a patient, “He doesn't mean anything by it.”

Awkwardly, he cleared his throat, drawing their attention to him. Jackson's eyes locked on his, and Jaebum was only vaguely aware of Mark rolling his eyes and returning inside.

Jaebum’s English was still poor, but he was sure he heard him mutter, “You are so screwed if you two end up in the same group…”

Even if Jaebum could think of a retort, he couldn't. The way Jackson was glaring at him, he was lucky he hadn't burst into flame.

Putting on his most sincere expression, he apologized.

“I shouldn't have told you like that…” he mumbled, feeling, if possible, even more ashamed.

Jackson continued to glare at him. Hurt and angry.

“I'll...uh...take you shopping...this weekend…” he continued awkwardly. “If you want...I'll show you…”

Jaebum stared anywhere but Jackson; the warmth crawling up his neck and coloring his cheeks had nothing to do with the late summer heat. After several, long moments, Jackson finally smiled.

“Really?”

Jaebum nodded.

With a delighted cheer, Jackson bounded forward, slinging his arm around Jaebum's shoulders, his mouth moving a mile a minute about all of the other shopping centers he had read about. Jackson tried inserting what little Korean he knew into his excited English, but he was talking so fast, Jaebum didn't understand any of it. Not that it mattered. Jackson was happy, and something about his smile made Jaebum break into his own.

Mark was wrong, he thought.

He and Jackson would be perfect together.

 

* * *

 

Jaebum was happy. Elated, even. He was debuting. Him and Jinyoung. They were moving into their own apartment, and would begin recording in just a week’s time for their first single.

At last the future he envisioned for himself was beginning.

So why, he wondered, had it been so hard to see Jackson smiling and congratulating him with everyone else…

 

* * *

 

For Jaebum’s birthday, after his school friends filed out of the apartment, leaving just Mark, Jinyoung, Wonpil, and Jackson, they pulled all the blankets from their beds, extras from the closet, and piled them on the floor of the living room in a makeshift nest.

They talked long after they turned off the lights and settled under the blankets. The darkness providing a kind of security that allowed honesty to flow easily without worry of embarrassment or judgment.

Soon, replies became shorter and quieter. Yawns more frequent. And eventually, Jaebum could hear Jinyoung’s soft, even breaths next to him. On his other side, Jackson turned to face him.

 _“Hyung…”_ he whispered, so softly there was no doubt that the word was just for him.

In the darkness of the room, Jaebum could only just make out Jackson’s soft expression as he looked at him.

He hummed in acknowledgement.

Jackson shuffled closer.

“Happy Birthday.”

Happiness seeped deep into Jaebum's skin. And the realization that maybe he had fallen in love, slipped away as his eyes fluttered closed and he slept.

 

* * *

 

Among the chaos of managers and stylists and PDs shouting that they had to move to standby, Jaebum craned his neck over the Bambam and Youngjae’s heads as they gathered. He didn't relax until he saw Jackson hurdling out of their dressing room. 

When Jackson joined their huddle, squished between Mark and Jinyoung, he slapped his hand on top of Jaebum’s which rested on top of Jinyoung's. Bambam laid his hand on Jackson's with equal excitement. As the others followed, Jackson looked up. His smile exuberant. Exhilarated. Their eyes met, and Jaebum’s breath left him.

Jackson smiled. Full of warmth and nervous excitement and promise.

Jaebum smiled back.

This was it, he thought.

His second chance. With Jackson. Together.

In that moment, there was no greater happiness.


	7. Mark/Youngjae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the anon who wanted fluffy Markjae! 
> 
> After watching fanvids and going through pictures for inspiration, I am thoroughly in love with this pairing now!!
> 
> Rating: G  
> Genre: fluff; AU  
> Summary: Youngjae and Mark meet in Hokkaido during winter vacation.

Youngjae had heard of summer romances. Brief, thrilling, almost fairytale-like loves that ended just as suddenly as they began. He never understood why his classmates would wonder with a kind of longing whether they would meet someone while their families vacationed in Jeju or Busan or overseas during the summer. It seemed tragic to him. Finding love and having to part after such a short time together. And yet, stories were built around the idea of a beautiful summer romance that ended with fond memories and beautifully nostalgic loves.

He never expected to have one of his own. Much less in the middle of winter, surrounded by snow and mountains in Hokkaido. 

Meeting Mark was like crashing right into fate itself. In fact, Youngjae quite literally _did_.

“I’m so sorry!” he shouted, clumsily detaching himself when they finally tumbled to a stop at the bottom of a rather large hill. His feet were still attached to his snowboard, and he toppled over again as kids younger than ten zoomed passed them like they were _born_ on their skis and boards.

The stranger just lay on his back, laughing as if he hadn’t just fallen nearly twenty feet down a mountain. He waved a dismissive hand as he sat up, removing his goggles and pulling down his face mask.

Youngjae stammered out in what little Japanese he knew. “ _Hontou ni sumimasen!_ I’m really sorry!” he repeated in Korean.

“It’s ok,” he replied in English, smiling beautifully.

Youngjae felt his breath leave his lungs.

“Mark,” he introduced himself, standing and holding out a hand to pull Youngjae up.

“...Youngjae,” he replied shyly. “Choi Youngjae.”

And that was how his own fairytale romance started. Surrounded by snow and looking at a boy with a pointed-toothed smile and sparkling black eyes.

 

* * *

 

Mark’s hesitant Korean matched well with Youngjae’s awkward English. And yet, he felt as though no words were needed. They smiled and laughed and joked in their strange mixture of languages, snowboarding until well after the lights came on, uncaring of the cold.

He learned that Mark was studying abroad in Seoul, and was on a trip with his family, who had come from Los Angeles to visit him during winter break. Youngjae told him about Mokpo, and his dreams of becoming a singer. Mark listened, fascinated by the number of part-time jobs Youngjae took on just to pay for vocal lessons. And Youngjae delighted in listening as Mark laughed at the stories from his more interesting run-ins while fixing computers or sliding fliers under strangers’ doors.

As they parted ways — Mark to change for dinner with his family, and Youngjae to do the same — he felt an unfamiliar fluttering in his chest as Mark smiled and waved at him over his shoulder, shouting a promise of seeing him the next day. Youngjae could hardly sleep from the excitement.

 

A few days passed. Youngjae found himself waiting for Mark in the lobby at the beginning of each day, parting only for meals, and each night stretching later and later into the early hours of the morning. More than once his family joked that they’d almost forgotten Youngjae was with them.

“It’s ok,” his mother reassured him when he apologized. “I’m glad you found a friend...have fun.”

_Friend._

Youngjae looked at Mark over the top of his Nintendo DS. Something tugged inside his chest. Something not quite satisfied with that word.

When Mark looked up from his own game and smiled, the thing inside him jolted with longing of sliding under Mark’s blanket and curling against his side.

It was late. Nearing midnight. But neither seemed to want to part. They sat on opposite ends of the leather couch, each having dragged the throw blankets from their rooms and deposited a pile of sweets between them.

The main lobby of the lodge was dark and empty, but the fireplace was alive with red and orange flames, casting a surreal glow across the thick rug in front of it. Youngjae could see the light reflect off Mark's eyes as they looked at each other. It was all so perfectly romantic.

He quickly looked back down at his game, heat creeping up his neck as _MISSION FAIL_ flashed up at him from his screen. When he glanced back up, he saw Mark looking back at his own game, smiling to himself.

 

* * *

 

Youngjae never actually _liked_ the cold. In fact, when his parents had announced they would be vacationing in Hokkaido, he had groaned and complained that he wanted to go somewhere _warm_ or not at all.

As he walked through the snowy street, sculptures surrounding him like a forest of varying animals and cute anime characters made of ice and snow, he couldn't help but glance to his left, feeling another rush of pleasure that reddened his already pink cheeks. Mark was gazing at the ice sculptures with a childlike awe. His smile bright and excited as they tramped through the snow, passing food vendors, tourists, and locals, all enjoying the winter festival. All Youngjae could think was, _thank god_ they had gone to Hokkaido, after all. 

“How do they get it here?” he heard Mark wonder, gazing up at a startlingly large Doraemon sculpture.

Youngjae shrugged. “Refrigerated truck?”

Mark looked at him quizzically. It was the look Youngjae knew meant that he didn't understand the Korean. He bit back a smile as he pulled out his phone and typed it in. Mark looked cute like that. 

Mark's eyes lit up in understanding when he saw the translation. 

“Aah! Refrigerated truck!” he smiled happily, repeating the word in Korean and English.

Youngjae quickly shoved his phone back in his pocket, feeling his cheeks warm.

They continue through the festival, stopping every so often to take pictures or look at the souvenir stands selling anything from magnets to handmade scarves.

“Here.”

Mark held out a cellphone charm with a cute white puppy dangling from a blue string. Youngjae looked at him, confused. No one use cellphone charms anymore. Grinning, Mark pulled his hand from his pocket and showed him the matching charm with a red string instead of blue.

“They only came in packs of two,” he explained as Youngjae took it.

A couple charm.

When he looked back at Mark, he was gazing at the oden vendor a few stands down, cheeks pink. He felt his own cheeks flush again as he carefully put the charm in his pocket.

“Thanks…”

 

* * *

 

Their first kiss went something like this: Mark, laying on his back, laughing breathlessly, and staring up at the darkening sky as snow continued to fall lightly around them. The near 50 or so kids and teenagers involved in the snowball fight had long since returned inside for hot chocolate and dry clothes, leaving Mark and Youngjae to enjoy the quiet that quickly fell over the grounds behind the lodge. 

He collapsed next to Mark, spreading his legs and arms out as far as he could. One leg lay over Mark's, and, much to Youngjae's delight, Mark didn’t move. He smiled up at the sky.

Tomorrow he would be flying home to Mokpo. He tried not to think too much about the sadness creeping into his heart. Turning his head, he saw Mark looking back at him.

Youngjae had read about fireworks, pulse-racing, heart-stopping kisses. Mark's kiss was none of that. It was like being wrapped in the warmest blanket. Soft and gentle and unsure.

And when Mark pulled away, it was like all the warmth left him.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry, Youngjae,” he sat up and scrambled away, eyes wide, looking horrified at his own boldness. “I'm really sorry I didn't mean...”

Still dazed, Youngjae stared back at him. It had been so quick — too quick. And yet he felt breathless. As if Mark had sucked the very breath from his lungs.

He broke out into a smile and fell back into the snow, laughing. Elated and deliriously happy. Mark had kissed him. He could still feel the warmth on his lips as if Mark's were still pressed against them. He was only vaguely aware of Mark staring at him. Embarrassed and mortified and confused.

“It's ok,” he laughed again, sitting up and reaching for him. His fingers curled through the front of Mark's coat. “It's ok.”

He leaned forward.

Their second kiss had definitely been better than the first.

 

* * *

 

Youngjae listened with mild interest as his classmates exchanged stories of their winter breaks. Some travelling, others complaining of a boring vacation spent at home or visiting family in the country.

When they finally turned to him expectantly, he fought back a smile and shrugged as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Just skiing in Hokkaido.”

After expressing their jealousy, his friends returned to trying to outdo each other for worst and best vacation.

He quickly pulled out his phone and grinned.

 _Mark_ _♡_ _: I was thinking of visiting Mokpo during summer vacation…_

His smiled widened.

Who ever said winter romances couldn’t turn into summer ones?


	8. Jackson/Jaebum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the holyverde who wanted Jackson and Jaebum introducing each other to their families! 
> 
> Or: Jackson and Jaebum fully intend to tell their families over Chuseok and instead get found out.
> 
> Rating: G (despite extremely mild sort of sexual reference but not really)  
> Genre: Fluff, sort of humor

When Jaebum imagined introducing Jackson to his family, he thought it would be simple. His parents had met Jackson numerous times — just never as Jaebum’s _boyfriend_ (even the word still felt too new and foreign). But it was fine. His parents loved Jackson. And his mother was delighted when he asked if Jackson and his parents could spend Chuseok with their family. What could possibly go wrong.

Except his father. 

Walking into the kitchen at quite literally, the worst possible time. 

Jackson pressed up against the counter with Jaebum’s leg wedged between his thighs, was _not_ how he wanted to let them know, _‘we’re dating, surprise!’_

Now, he and Jackson were sitting in his living room, red-faced and mortified in front of his understanding, but still equally embarrassed father, and their amused mothers. Even Jackson’s father looked rather unsurprised by the “big reveal” that most definitely went extremely wrong.

Awkwardly, Jaebum cleared his throat and looked at his parents as Jackson fidgeted nervously next to him, worrying at his bottom lip. His father turned a deeper shade of red, but his mother’s grin widened.

“So…” she started.

Jaebum groaned and burned his head in his arms, apologizing profusely for what felt like the hundredth time in less than ten minutes. He hadn't _meant_ to start kissing Jackson in the middle of his parent's kitchen. In the midst of trying to calm Jackson down about finally telling their families, Jaebum had simply gotten...carried away.

His mother’s giggle sounded like one of a school girl who just stumbled on the most delicious gossip that she couldn’t _wait_ to share. Jabeum would be shocked if the entire Kim, Choi, Park, Tuan, and Bhuwakul families didn’t get a call that night to start planning a wedding.

“We were going to tell you tonight,” he muttered, refusing to look up.  

“Well that is _one_ way to go about it,” she replied, amused.

Jaebum and his father let out identical groans.

Jackson’s father muttered something in Cantonese that made his wife laugh, and Jackson moan a back a distressed reply. Whatever he said made his father shrug, unremorseful.

“What?” Jaebum turned his head, still unable to actually lift it in fear of having to meet his father’s eyes.

“He said he owed Mark’s dad _fifty dollars.”_

Jaebum raised his head just enough so Jackson could see his look of disbelief.

“They _bet_ on us,” Jackson added, sounding, if possible, even more distraught.

“Only on when you would finally tell us,” Jaebum's mother replied. “From what I understand, Jinyoung-ie won the first bet.”

Jaebum looked up at his mother in horror. _“What?”_

His father actually looked a bit sheepish when he replied. “On when you would finally admit your feelings for each other.”

“We weren't involved in that one,” his mother said, as if that was at all any comfort (it wasn't).

As if on their own, several instances over the spring came back to him. He hadn't thought twice about it at first…

Jinyoung always somehow making sure Jackson ended up next to Jaebum when they gathered in the living room. Somehow ushering them all out of the apartment _except_ Jackson, while Jaebum was recovering. Ensuring it was Jackson next to him when he finally returned to activities. Dropping small compliments about Jackson when he and Jaebum were together…

Then there was Mark’s frown and Jinyoung's unusually wide grin when Jaebum and Jackson discussed their relationship with the rest of the group. In fact, he remembered everyone _but_ Jinyoung looking more disappointed than shocked.

Sighing, he buried his head in his hands again, and pressed his palms hard against his eyes.

He supposed he should be grateful for the support…

Despite the form it came in.

Jackson’s mother spoke and reached over to place a comforting hand on his knee.

“She said even though we’re taking a risk, they fully support us,” Jackson mumbled, looking at his mother with a mixture of gratitude and relief.

Jaebum lowered his hands and lifted his head enough to smile gratefully at her as his own parents and Jackson’s father made noises of agreement.

“That said…” Jaebum’s mother narrowed her eyes at him. An ominous feeling crept up his neck like a cold chill.

“You _are_ wearing protection—”

“Please don't finish that sentence,” he moaned as his father fell off the couch in his haste to stand.

“I'm going...to...go...show Jackson's parents the gardens…”

With a little help from Jackson, whose face was once again a deep shade of red, Jaebum's father managed to usher the Wangs out of the room.

Flustered, Jackson remained standing as if he wanted nothing more than to join them.

“It's a fair question, Jaebum,” his mother said testily, eyeing him with disapproval, as if his flushed cheeks and embarrassment were somehow inappropriate.

He gave another distressed cry and stood. “I am _not_ talking about this…”

Without thinking, he grabbed Jackson's hand and led him outside. He could see his father showing Mr. and Mrs. Wang the small family garden that was full and bursting with perfectly red tomatoes, cabbages good enough to sell, summer squash, and even a small apple tree.

After several long moments of silence, in which they simply watched their parents communicate in an odd mix of broken languages and gestures, Jackson finally chuckled.

“That was not how I imagined this weekend would go.”

Jaebum snorted and collapsed on the swing chair his father installed when he was still a teenager. It hung from the roof of their back patio and was the perfect spot to watch the sun paint their small farm in varying shades of orange as it sunk below the horizon.

Jackson sat next to him so their bodies lined perfectly with each other from shoulder to thigh. He laced their fingers together and lay his head against Jaebum's shoulder.

Jaebum tilted his head with a sigh, and rested it against Jackson's. Closing his eyes, he let the content wash over him like slow moving waves. Whether they were sitting on a porch swing at his parents’ house, on the couch in their apartment, or dozing in the van on the way to a schedule, the weight of Jackson's head against his shoulder was a feeling that would always be very distinctly _home_. It filled him. Made him feel whole and complete and _right._

He lifted their joined hands and brushed his lips against Jackson’s knuckles. No words were needed. The _“I love you”_ was there. In the way he squeezed Jackson’s hand. And the way Jackson nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

_‘Click’_

His eyes shot open at the sound of the phone camera, and he nearly threw Jackson off the swing seat as he jumped away.

His mother giggled delightedly and took another picture of their bright red faces.

“Wait until I show your grandmother,” she reached over to ruffle his hair and he ducked away from her touch. “Our Jaebum-ah is such a romantic.”

She took one last picture before skipping back into the house.

“Dinner is in an hour!” she sing-songed.

Jaebum groaned and leaned with his head resting against the back of the seat.

Chuckling, Jackson pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you, _hyung_.”

Jaebum smiled softly.

“You too, Jackson-ah.”

He pulled Jackson down for another kiss.

Whether his mother or the entire staff of Dispatch showed up now, he really didn't care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So everything about this is probably really tropey, but I will never stop being amused at the whole, "we bet on your love life" cliche ^^;


	9. Jackson/Jaebum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Really, you can consider this part 1 of the sequel to chapter 1. I had *two* anon's, and a commenter or two ask for a Markjin and/or Jackbum sequel, so here is the Jackbum portion! It's fluffy and gross, and I make no apologies even though it's short!
> 
> Pairing: Jackbum  
> Rating: G  
> Summary: Jaebum wakes up without Jackson next to him, and finds him making tea in the kitchen. Featuring: Bambam being unable to cope with the romantic cheesiness.

Jaebum shuffled into the kitchen, wrapped in his duvet so only his eyes peaked out from the top. He woke up without Jackson next to him and hadn't been able to shake off the cold that came with his absence.

Jackson stood at the counter, stirring honey into a hot mug of green tea. Without hesitation, Jaebum walked over and folded over him. With his arms still trapped in the blanket, he simply lay against Jackson's back, letting the warmth sink into him. 

Jackson flinched in surprise, before relaxing again with a small chuckle.

“What are you doing?”

“M’cold…” he mumbled into Jackson's shoulder. “You left…”

His eyes drifted close as the drowsiness that escaped him earlier, returned.

Jackson reached over his shoulder and poked his cheek.

“You really can sleep anywhere,” he laughed softly.

Jaebum hummed in response, already feeling himself drift off. Jackson was warm and comforting and he probably _could_ actually fall asleep just like this…

He let out a small groan of protest as Jackson gently moved enough to turn so they were facing each other. Jaebum stubbornly flopped against him again, forcing Jackson to wrap his arms around his waist to keep him up.

“You want tea?” he offered, amusement at the edge of his voice.

Jaebum shook his head. Using as little energy as he could, he lifted himself up and wrapped his arms around Jackson, engulfing them both in his blanket.

The warmth he was missing earlier seeped back into his skin. He held Jackson tighter.

The blanket cocooned them away from the world. When Jaebum rested his forehead against Jackson's, it was just them. He could feel Jackson's breath against his lips and felt the urge to steal it.

So he did.

He kissed Jackson slow and deep. Melting their lips together, drinking him in, swallowing the small sounds escaping Jackson's throat.

“No tea, then?” Jackson with a breathless laugh as they parted.

Jaebum kissed him again.

“AH— _HYUNG!”_

Bambam’s shriek forced them apart. Jackson shoved Jaebum off so quickly he stumbled back, nearly tripping on the bottom of the blanket.

“You _promised!”_ he wailed, pulling at his hair, looking as if he had just witnessed something truly grotesque.

Jackson's cheeks were bright red as he fumbled out an apology. Jaebum glowered at Bambam.

“We thought you were asleep.”

“That's not the point!” Bambam squawked. “It's like watching your _parents_ kiss.” He wrinkled his nose. “Or your siblings.”

Jaebum narrowed his eyes. “Goodnight, Bambam.”

“I'm _hungry.”_

“You're not.”

Bambam opened his mouth as if to argue again, and instead snapped it closed. With a very loud, aggravated sigh, he spun on his heel and stalked back to his room, muttering under his breath in Thai.

Once his door slammed shut, Jaebum and Jackson looked and each other. And immediately broke out into laughter.

Still grinning, Jaebum shook his head and held out his hand. Jackson took it.

They curled together on the couch, a late night drama on low volume, wrapped up in Jaebum's blanket, Jackson with his tea, and Jaebum drifting off next to him.

Smiling, Jackson set his tea on the floor and adjusted so they lay on the couch together, forcing Jaebum in front of him so they were pressed front to back.

Jaebum snorted. “Really?”

“Shut up,” Jackson muttered, tightening his hold. “I'm always the little spoon.”


	10. Mark/Jinyoung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the chapter 1 "sequel" I'm not all that sorry this is short sorry everyone :x Please enjoy! I was much nicer to Jinyoung than I originally planned!!
> 
> Pairing: Markjin  
> Rating: R (non-explicit hand job)  
> Summary: Mark is still kind of mad at Jinyoung, but he's also kind of still madly in love with him.

When they returned to the apartment, Jinyoung was so on edge, he barely noticed Jaebum and Jackson curled on the couch together, fast asleep.

At least _they_ had made up, he thought bitterly when he finally spotted them.

Mark brushed by him without a word, not even sparing him a glance before disappearing into his room.

Jinyoung cursed and kicked one of Coco’s toys into a pile of laundry that was probably a mix of clean and dirty clothes. He scowled it like it was responsible for his current predicament.

Mark hadn't said a _word_ since Jaebum and Jackson ditched them at the restaurant. Only speaking to order the banana split that took him an _hour_ to finish. He hadn't even spoken when he reached into Jinyoung's pocket for his keys, and silenced his protest with a sharp look.

At least he wasn't angry enough to let Jinyoung drive after two bottles of wine. _That_ was something.

The entire evening had been nothing but Mark's hand roaming so far up his leg, any sense of public decency had simply ceased to exist. There were smirks and intense, heated glances as Mark licked his spoon clean and finished his ice cream, and yet…

Jinyoung had gotten _nothing_ but an extremely tense walk out of the restaurant with his cardigan wrapped awkwardly around his waist.

Sighing, he gathered clothes to sleep in and headed for the bathroom to shower, resigning himself to letting Mark cool off for the night, and hoping the evening would be forgotten by morning. Mark was both stubborn and easy to forgive, and Jinyoung was never sure which he was going to get.

The water was hot and pleasant. The few times he was bold enough to allow Mark to share a shower with him, Mark had complained about the heat. But Jinyoung liked it. It felt nice – the slight sting that came with the hot water against his skin, and the way it turned it pink. It cleared his head and eased the tension from his muscles.

Caught up in his own thoughts – Mark’s strange behavior; how they were going to get through a day of filming if they were still “fighting;" how Jackson and Jaebum somehow ended up cuddling and not at each other’s throats – he didn’t hear the bathroom door open.

The shower curtain slid back and Mark stepped in front of him. Jinyoung raised an eyebrow at him, feigning indifference.

"Someone using the other shower?" he asked.

Water soaked Mark's hair and ran down his cheeks. Jinyoung wanted to run his tongue along his neck, and lap up the water as it streamed down his skin.

Wordlessly, Mark stepped forward until Jinyoung was trapped against the cold tiles behind him.

"Your showers are still too hot," he breathed.

Before Jinyoung could retort, Mark's lips were on his, and his hand had wrapped around him in a firm grip. He licked into Jinyoung's mouth, swallowing his gasp as he pressed him harder against the tiled wall. Jinyoung's entire _body_ was on fire. With a only a few, slow strokes, Mark had him growing hard and heavy under his touch.

" _Hyung–"_ he gasped, tearing his lips away and throwing his head back against the tiles. " _Jesus."_

Mark's eyes met his – dark and hooded and _fuck_ he was gorgeous like that. His hair plastered against his face, his skin pink from the heat, lips red and parted...

"Jinyoung-ah," he murmured, leaning forward and pressing kisses along his jaw. "Do you really–" he kissed his neck. "–think–" his lips trailed along his shoulders, as hand continued to work in slow, deliberate strokes "–I don't love you?"

His lips trailed back up to hover above Jinyoung's. They brushed whenever he took a breath.

They gazed at each other in silence. No words passing between them. None needed.

He always marveled at the way Mark's silence could say so much. Never needing words. And Jinyoung never needing him to use them. He always simply _knew_. From the way Mark looked at him. The way he kissed him. Touched him. Loved him.

The rush of pleasure rolled over him. It crashed through his body, stealing the breath from his lungs and prickling across his skin as if he replaced his veins with live, sparking wires. He threw his head back, gasping, his release coating Mark's fingers. He felt his knees go weak and slipped down the tiles. Mark held him up.

"I'm still mad at you," he breathed, holding Jinyoung as he caught his breath.

He couldn't help but smile a bit. "But...?"

Mark snorted, and kissed him again.

"I know you want to say it," Jinyoung teased when they parted again.

Sighing, Mark rested his forehead against Jinyoung's.

"I love you."

Jinyoung's grin widened and he leaned forward for another kiss. "You, too, _hyung."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> January has been an INSANE month for me...this weekend is the only weekend I'm *not* spending in a hotel room, so I apologize for being so slow with these!!


	11. Mark/Jaebum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I. AM. SO. SORRY. THESE ARE TAKING SO LONG.
> 
> Markbum for anon who wanted Mark as Jaebum's daughter's kindergarten teacher. She is his favorite but she gets in trouble a lot so he calls Jaebum for a parent-teacher talk. He doesn't expect to become smitten but lo-and-behold, his student is not the only Im he ends up having a soft spot for.
> 
> I apologize I forgot about the parent-teacher talk bit, anon :( but I hope you find this fic and that you still like it! I admit I had a hard time fitting this into a one-shot...Markbum is such a slow-burn kind of couple imo, I could have easily made this a chaptered fic!!
> 
> Genre: Fluff  
> Rating: G

The first time Mark met Im Jaebum, it was like missing a step going down the stairs. Or that brief weightlessness right before the first drop on a rollercoaster. His heart beat faster and his breath left him in such a rush, he was sure he’d never get it back.

From the leather jacket and snakebite moles above his narrow eyes, Mark had never seen anyone so flawlessly gorgeous. He was also holding the hand of a small girl named Seonmi. He would never admit that his eyes immediately fixed on the ringless left hand. His heart gave a happy little flutter. 

It was the first day of school, and, like the children, Mark was new. He had been teaching middle school for two years in Korea at a small private academy, when he was asked to help with a friend’s kindergarten class. The pay was less, but Mark preferred teaching children — they were bright and energetic, and reminded him of his own nieces back home. Besides, saying no to Choi Youngjae was about as impossible as breathing under water.

When Jaebum greeted him for the first time, Mark felt his bones melt. His voice was rich and deep and perfect…

His daughter shied back against his legs when Mark knelt down to her level, smiling and introducing himself as her new teacher. Weeks later, it was like she couldn’t wait to sprint away from her father and barrel into Mark’s arms every morning.

Jaebum followed at a slower pace, chuckling as Mark stood with Seonmi securely in his arms.

“I think she likes you more than me, now,” he joked.

Mark responded with a laugh and hoped his cheeks weren't _too_ pink.

The mornings fell into something of a routine — Seonmi would run into Mark’s arms and whine until he picked her up. Jaebum would reach out to ruffle her hair, tell her to be good, and share a grin with Mark, whose heart always did small, happy backflip. At the end of the day, Jaebum would show up and give an exasperated sigh as his daughter ran up, covered in scrapes and dirt, with a tear in her new dress. Mark and Youngjae would apologize profusely, and explain how she had climbed the tree in the playground, or fell playing tag or gotten a little too competitive over a game of soccer. Jaebum’s eyes would meet Mark’s and they would share another grin. Mark’s heart would do another flip.

Seonmi was a bright, cheerful girl. She had an opinion on everything and wasn’t afraid to share it. Her uncanny ability to get into trouble was matched only by the way she made sure to always help clean up after lunch or art lessons. And Mark’s fondness for her only seemed to grow.

It was a shock, then, the day Youngjae and Mark rushed across their small playground to pull Seonmi and another girl apart, for fighting. Seonmi’s cheek was streaked with tears, her hair was pulled from her braid, and her leggings had a tear at the knee, where she was bleeding. As Mark pulled her away, Youngjae tended to the other girl, who was crying, with her hair sticking in all directions and a spot on her cheek that would surely bruise.

After ushering the other students back into the classroom, Mark carried Seonmi to the bathroom to clean her up. He tried to coax her into telling him what happened, but she refused to look at him. Sighing, he patted her head, fixed her hair, and placed a Band-Aid on her knee.

It was the first time Jaebum didn’t greet him with a smile. His face was pale with worry, and Mark felt something inside him crack as he watched Jaebum bow and apologize to the other girl’s mother, who seemed just as shaken and apologetic.

“Is my daddy going to get in trouble?” Seonmi asked in a quiet voice, watching Youngjae and Jaebum disappear into the small office. Youngjae had just seen off the other girl and her mother, leaving them alone in the empty classroom.

Mark sat on the floor next to her and picked up a toy pony. He bumped it into the one she was playing with and smiled reassuringly.

“I think teacher Choi just wants to talk to him.”

Seonmi stared at the ground, frowning. “She said I didn’t have a mommy…” She knocked another pony toy away with her own and sniffled.

“Daddy said mommy is in heaven,” she continued to frown at the floor. “But I still have him…” she looked up at Mark, her eyes watery. “Is it bad to only have a daddy?”

A sharp pang went through his chest.

Without a word, he put down the toy he had been fiddling with and pulled her into his lap in a loose hug. She sniffed again and buried her head in his chest.

“It's not fair,” she mumbled into his shirt.

He held her tighter and sighed. What could he say to a child who lost her mother...

When Jaebum finally emerged from the office with Youngjae close behind, Seonmi was asleep, still held securely in Mark's arms. He stood slowly, careful not to wake her. Jaebum took her with a sad smile and thanked him.

Mark returned the smile. For once, his heart wasn't in it.

 

* * *

 

The next day, it was as if nothing happened. Jaebum bowed and apologized to the girl’s mother again, while she assured Jaebum she had also scolded her daughter over her comments. The girl, Jihye, apologized, shuffling her feet and staring shyly at the ground.

By lunchtime, they were inseparable.

When Jaebum picked Seonmi up at the end of the day, he flashed Mark a small smile and his heart did another small leap.

Before he could stop himself, he rattled off a quick apology to Youngjae, promising he wouldn't be long, and followed after them.

Jaebum stopped and turned when Mark called out to him. He blinked. “Did she forget something?”

Mark hesitated, not really sure _why_ he had followed them out, only that now he was in front of Jaebum and his mind had gone blank.

“Oh...um…” he licked his lips, a nervous habit that apparently didn't escape Jaebum's notice. Or maybe he just imagined Jaebum's eyes flicking to his lips. 

“I just…” he forced himself to think. “Seonmi did really well in class today,” he finally said.

Jaebum looked at him in surprise. “Oh…”

Mark shifted under the confused look. What kind of teacher rushes out to say, “your kid did well”?

“I'm glad to hear that.” Jaebum smiled, and Mark couldn't help but smile back.

“Y-yeah...I mean...I just thought...after yesterday...you might be a little worried…”

Jaebum glanced down at his daughter, who was watching them curiously, her hand clasped tightly in his hand. His smile widened and he looked back at Mark.

“Thank you...I appreciate it.”

When Mark returned to the classroom his body felt so light, he was sure he could fly if he tried hard enough.

 

* * *

 

Mark stared down at the drawing Seonmi was proudly showing him. Her excited chatter about it drowned out by his own whirring thoughts. 

It was a typical child’s picture — colorfully drawn crayon people standing on a mass of green meant to be grass, under blue (and purple) scribbles and a big, yellow sun. It was normal for children to draw pictures of their families. What wasn't normal was including their teacher.

“That's daddy,” she pointed to a figure that could have been anyone if Seonmi hadn't given her little figure two eye moles identical to the real Jaebum.

“And mommy,” she pointed to a smiling figure with wings that she had drawn in her blue and purple sky. “And Nora,” she pointed to the cat next to her own small figure. “Me,” she moved her finger over. “And teacher Tuan!” She happily pointed at the his smiling crayon figure.

He wouldn’t have thought much of it if Youngjae wasn't missing (she had drawn him and Mark together on another sheet of paper, and explained they were her favorite teachers _ever!_ ). He stared at the picture, trying to sort the feelings that made his chest constrict with sadness and longing and anxiety, but warmed him to his very core.

“Do you like it?” she asked excitedly.

He finally looked away from the picture and smiled at her. “I do.”

When she showed Jaebum the picture, Mark watched a complicated expression pass over his face, before it quickly softened as he smiled down at his daughter.

“It's great, sweetie.”

Seonmi beamed up at him. When Jaebum looked back at Mark, his expression was complicated again. Mark felt his heart give a sudden, nervous jolt.

“I-I’ll...um...see you tomorrow,” he smiled and hoped it didn't seem too forced.

Jaebum stared at him for a second or so longer, before nodding and looking back at Seonmi, his smile back in place. Mark would always admire the way parents could so quickly hide their worries from their children.

“Say goodbye.”

Seonmi waved happily. “Bye, Tuan-teacher!”

Mark smiled back and waved. “See you tomorrow.”

With a final, fleeting glance at Mark, Jaebum led his daughter away.

Mark so badly wanted to follow.

 

* * *

 

“She and a few of the kids were jumping off the swings,” Mark said apologetically as Jaebum looked incredulously at Seonmi's tattered leggings and scraped elbow. “I'm so sorry, Jaebum...we barely took our eyes off them…" 

It seemed whenever he said more than “hello” or “goodbye” to Jaebum, it was because his daughter was in trouble or hurt. Or both.

Sighing, Jaebum waved a dismissive hand. “It's ok…” he threw a stern look at his daughter. “She knows better.”

Seonmi crossed her arms and fixed him with a defiant glare. “It's only because Minjoon said I couldn't jump farther than him!”

Mark watched the corners of Jaebum's lips twitch.

“And did you?” he asked.

She beamed up at him and gave a little jump. “Yes! I did! Much, much further!”

“Let's go home,” he finally laughed, ruffling her hair.

His eye caught Mark's and his smile widened, eyes turning up in two, perfect crescent moons.

If he wasn't in love before, he definitely was now.

 

* * *

 

“She's mad at me,” Jaebum explained, half amused, half exasperated as Seonmi stomped past Mark and flung herself into her seat. She crossed her arms and glared at the table as if it was the one who made her angry.

Mark smiled bemusedly at him. “What did you do?”

“Killed a spider.”

Mark blinked.

Jaebum grinned. “She named it.”

They stared at each other. Then, unable to help himself, Mark laughed. Jaebum's grin widened. And he laughed too.

Mark wouldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

Fall turned to winter, and Christmas and New Year’s flew by in a whir of visiting family and a short trip to Hong Kong to visit a friend. When Mark finally returned, it was mid-January and only a week to Lunar New Year. 

“Mark-teacher!” Seonmi screeched happily, nearly knocking him over as she barreled into his legs and wrapped her tiny arms around them.

“ _Tuan_ -teacher,” Jaebum corrected her calmly, sharing a smile with Mark, whose heart did a happy little flutter.

The holidays had been so hectic he hadn't realized how much he missed that smile. Now it was as if something suddenly clicked right back into place, and he felt whole again.

“I missed you too,” he squatted down to Seonmi’s level. “Did you have a nice holiday?”

Seonmi nodded excitedly. “We went to my grandma and grandpa's house! And for daddy's birthday we went to the amusement park!”

“Oh,” Mark looked up at Jaebum in surprise.  “Happy birthday.”

Jaebum flashed him a sheepish grin. “Thanks.”

“My birthday is this weekend!” Seonmi continued, oblivious to whatever was passing between Mark and her father. “We’re going to the zoo!”

He reluctantly turned away from Jaebum's gaze to smile down at Seonmi. “Really?” he said, mirroring her enthusiasm. “What's your favorite animal?”

“Tigers!” she bounced excitedly and tugged on his sleeve. “Do you want to come?”

His heart gave a little skip.

“Please, please, please!” she insisted, her eyes widening adorably.

“Seonmi,” Jaebum chastised gently. “Tuan-teacher is probably busy—”

He flashed Jaebum a brief smile, hoping it looked casual and not _too_ eager. In truth, he wanted to go. So much that it hurt.

“It's ok,” he assured, ruffling Seonmi’s hair a bit. “Do you really want me to come?” he asked her. “Don't you want to spend the day with your daddy?”

Seonmi turned pleadingly to her father. “Pleeeeaaaase!”

Jaebum sighed. “If you're not busy…” he said, now looking at Mark. “You’re welcome to join us...Jihye’s mother is dropping her off in the morning,” he smiled a bit, “I might need the help.”

Mark chuckled. He glanced down at Seonmi who was staring between them hopefully, before looking back up at Jaebum. “Sure...I'd like that.”

They stared at each other as Seonmi let out a triumphant shout and sprinted off to tell Jihye the exciting news.

Clearing his throat, Jaebum fidgeted a bit. Mark stood, suddenly uncomfortably aware that he might be intruding.

“I don't have to go this weekend...you can tell Seonmi something came up or—”

“No!” Jaebum cut him off quickly. His eyes widened a bit. “I mean…” he cleared his throat again, now looking anywhere but Mark, who was having trouble looking away.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, looking a bit flustered. “I...your number...for this weekend.”

Mark stared at him. He felt his cheeks heat up embarrassingly as Jaebum held the phone out for him. “O-oh…” he reached for it. “Right...”

He quickly entered his number and felt his own phone buzz in his pocket after sending himself a quick text.

“I'll um...send you the details...before this weekend…” Jaebum said, pocketing his phone.

Mark's lips twitched. Jaebum's first impression had been almost intimidating. The man in front of him was all shyness and awkward restlessness. It was adorable.

“I'll make sure Seonmi doesn't get into too much trouble today,” he said, attempting bring them back to a safe, normal place.

It seemed to work. Jaebum's shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “You can try.”

A few hours later, Seonmi climbed the tree in the school playground again and fell out of it. There were a lot of tears and scraped knees, but luckily no broken bones.

That night, Jaebum sent Mark a text with a photo attached. It was Seonmi’s knee with the Pikachu Band-Aid Mark had put on it. The message below it said, _'She won't let me take it off…where did you buy them?’_

Chuckling, Mark replied, warmth spreading through his chest. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought he'd be more nervous. But a text from Jaebum felt...strangely familiar. As if they hadn't just exchange numbers that day.

_‘I have an extra box...I'll give it to you tomorrow…’_

Jaebum's reply was came a few minutes later with a simple, _‘thanks.’_

Still grinning, he replied, _‘No problem…they're my nieces’ favorites too.’_

His thumb hovered over the send button, wondering whether it was too personal...after all, they had never really exchanged much more than greetings (and the occasional apology over Seonmi’s troublemaking). With a deep breath he hit _“send.”_

He stared at his phone. _Now_ he felt nervous.

The phone buzzed and he immediately opened the message.

_‘How old are they?’_

Mark's heart did a happy little flip.

_‘Eight and five.’_

They exchanged messages for another hour. Chatting about Mark’s nieces and Seonmi’s penchant for getting into trouble, until finally, it was time for Jaebum to put Seonmi to bed.

_‘See you tomorrow?’_

_‘Of course...I’ll make sure to give you the band-aids.’_

 

* * *

 

As the weekend approached, the only texts Mark received from Jaebum were about the meeting place and time for the zoo.

He’d spent an embarrassing amount of time picking out an outfit. By the time he’d settled on a simple pair of jeans and an emerald green flannel under a black winter coat, half his wardrobe was tossed across his bed and floor.

He didn’t think he’d be so nervous. It wasn’t exactly a _date_.

It wasn’t a date.

He was going to the zoo. With two of his students and a parent.

A parent that he very...very much _wanted_ to date.

With a groan, he pulled out his phone and checked the time.

_11:00am._

He was a half-hour early.

He tried sitting on one of the benches. Tried standing without fidgeting too much. Shoved his hands into his pockets, and watched as families, couples, and friends entered the zoo...

He paced. Sat. Paced some more. Until a familiar squeal made him turn. Seconds later, Seonmi was barreling into him like she did each morning at school.

Then Jihye ran into him.

“Mark-teacher!” Seonmi shouted, beaming up at him, her hands fisted in the leg of his jeans as she bounced excitedly. “You came!”

He smiled down at her. “Happy birthday."

She squealed again and hugged him tighter.

Jaebum followed at a slower pace, hands shoved into his leather jacket, and a warm, soft smile as he approached.

Mark tried not to stare, and was sure he was doing a terrible job of it...

Jaebum hadn’t dressed much different than most days — his jacket was zipped and he had a thick, black scarf wrapped around his neck, but his hair looked fluffy and soft to the touch, as if he had simply brushed it that morning and walked out the door.

“Thanks for coming,” he greeted.

Mark smiled. “Thanks for inviting me.”

When they approached the ticket booth, Jaebum insisted on buying Mark’s ticket. They spent several minutes arguing back-and-forth, until Mark finally relented after the woman behind them cleared her throat impatiently.

The moment they were through the entrance, the girls sprinted ahead of them, straight to the big cats exhibits.

“Don’t go too far!” Jaebum shouted after them. “Yah! Im Seonmi!”

Seonmi turned to wave at her father to show she understood, before darting to the cheetah enclosure.

Sighing, Jaebum shook his head. “If we don’t watch her, she’ll probably climb into the tiger cage.”

Mark grinned. “She's had enough practice climbing that tree in our playground.”

Jaebum shot him a look comically stuck between horrified and disapproving, but most definitely, it said _"don't even joke about that."_

Mark laughed as Jaebum grumbled about the very _real_ possibility of his daughter finding a way to break at least _one_ rule that day...

Despite the cold January weather, many of the animals were out and active. Seonmi and Jihye dashed from exhibit to exhibit, pointing excitedly whenever an animal moved or gave a great, big yawn. Jaebum and Mark followed at a slower pace, letting the girls enjoy themselves, while never losing sight of them.

“I was really worried…” Jaebum said as they watched Seonmi and Jihye wait for their turn to feed the giraffes.

Mark glanced at him, before looking ahead again. “About Seonmi?” he prompted after a short silence.

Jaebum nodded. “After…” he hesitated, before continuing. “After her mother died...she was only two at the time...my wife’s parents offered to raise her but…” he shrugged. “She’s my daughter…”

Mark wished he had a better response than the soft hum he had given. He always tried not to think too deeply about Seonmi’s mother...Jaebum’s wife. The topic felt too personal — too off limits — to ask about. But now…

“How did she....” he trailed off. “Sorry,” he added quickly, seeing Jaebum’s shoulders tense. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No…” Jaebum sighed. “It’s ok…”

Mark looked at him, patiently waiting for him to continue. He was staring straight ahead, watching his daughter with a kind of distant look, as if he was only half present.

“It was a car accident,” he finally said, “drunk driver…” Mark could hear the bitterness in his voice. “They were both killed.”

He let the words hang in the air and sink in, before finally, he said the two words that were always said when a loved one died, but never provided any real comfort, “I’m sorry…”

Jaebum smiled, and replied the same way all those who lost loved ones did, “It’s ok...thank you…”

Mark wanted to say something more. Wanted to reach out and place a comforting hand on Jaebum’s arm but it felt too…

...intimate.

“Who does she get the troublemaking from?” he finally asked, trying to bring back the light atmosphere, even managing to force a small smile.

It seemed to work. Jaebum’s lips slowly curved up into a smile of his own. “That is definitely her mother.”

Mark snorted. “I think you’re lying.”

That made Jaebum laugh. Mark’s heart did another happy flutter when their eyes met. There it was again...the fond, warm look that had been lingering behind Jaebum’s gaze lately...the one that made hope swell in Mark’s chest that maybe it was meant for him...

“Daddy!” Seonmi’s shout forced Jaebum’s gaze away, and the moment was gone as quickly as it came. She was waving her arms wildly over her head, and shouting for Jaebum to take a picture of them feeding the giraffes.

Grinning, Jaebum glanced at Mark one last time, before walking over to his daughter to take her picture.

As the day passed, Mark felt as if he and Jaebum had shared a thousand afternoons just like this…following Seonmi as she and Jihye darted from one exhibit to another, buying them stuffed tigers, hot chocolate, and even ice cream, despite the cold weather. Shortly after the sun set, and dinner at a rainforest-themed cafe that served animal-shaped chicken tenders, they left the zoo, and Mark reluctantly prepared to say goodbye.

Seonmi whined and pouted but eventually, Jaebum managed to make her let go of Mark's hand. He watched them go, waving and smiling when Seonmi looked sadly over her shoulder, pretending it didn't hurt to not follow.

When he returned home that night, the quiet apartment he usually found solace in, felt oppressive and empty. Sighing, he tossed his jacket into the pile of clothes on the floor and collapsed on his bed. He closed his eyes, knowing he should at least change, but he couldn't muster the energy. Even reaching for the phone buzzing in his pocket seemed like too much effort.

With another sigh, he reached for it. It was probably just Jackson—

He scrambled up when he saw the name on his screen.

_Jaebum._

He stared at it. His heart hammering wildly as his mind tried to come up with every possible reason Jaebum would be texting him…

With a calming breath, he opened the message.

_‘Thanks for coming today...Seonmi really loves her tiger.’_

The second message was a picture of Seonmi and Jihye fast asleep in Seonmi’s bed, each clutching the stuffed tigers Mark had bought them (after yet another long disagreement with Jaebum).

Mark smiled and laid back against his pillows. He never thought something so simple could make him feel so deliriously happy.

_‘I'm glad.’_

Jaebum didn't reply after that, but it didn't matter. The simple fact he had messaged him made Mark warm all over.

 

* * *

 

When Monday finally came, Mark felt anxious at the thought of seeing Jaebum again…

He tried to tell himself to stop acting like a goddamn teenager with a crush, but the moment Jaebum walked through the door, his heart did its usual happy leap.

Seonmi ran full speed into his legs. She was clutching the stuffed tiger.

Jaebum gave Mark an exasperated look. “She hasn't let go of it since Saturday. It even sits on the edge of the tub when she takes a bath.”

Mark laughed and ruffled Seonmi’s hair affectionately before she ran off to tackle Youngjae.

Usually, once Seonmi ran off, Jaebum departed shortly after, but today he hung back, his eyes fixed on Mark. The same, complicated expression on his face again…

Mark really wished he could decipher it.

Jaebum opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly shut it as Jihye’s mother appeared to greet and thank them for taking care of her daughter. After chatting politely for a few minutes, she finally parted.

They stood in an awkward silence for several long moments before Jaebum finally spoke.

“Do...uh…” he cleared his throat, and shoved his hands in his jacket pocket. “Thanks for...coming this weekend…”

Mark blinked. “Oh...yeah...it was fun,” he tried his best to smile, unsure of why he felt so nervous. Maybe it was the way Jaebum was fidgeting. Or the way he refused to look at him like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.

When Jaebum finally looked at him again, the complicated expression was back. Mark tilted his head in silent question. He could practically see the internal battle going on inside Jaebum’s head even if he couldn’t hear it.

“I…” Jaebum hesitated again, drew a deep breath and let it out quickly. “Did you...want to...do it again...sometime…”

Mark stared at him.

“Not the zoo,” he clarified quickly “...uh...dinner…” he cleared his throat. “With me...”

“With you and Seon-mi?” Mark asked, still not quite understanding. “Of course—”

“—me,” Jaebum interrupted. “I mean...if you want...I can leave Seonmi with my mother...on Friday…” he trailed off, looking uncertain and nervous.

Mark continued to stare, trying to understand. Jaebum was...asking him on a date. That’s what this was...right? He hadn’t misheard...Im Jaebum had just asked him on a date...

He repeated the words silently to himself over and over, still not quite believing it. He had wanted it. Hoped for it. Imagined a thousand different scenarios that always ended with him and Jaebum and Seonmi. But now the reality was in front of him and the words wouldn’t come...

“If you don’t—”

“—No!” Mark cut him off so quickly he startled even himself. Flushing, he glanced around, but none of the children or Youngjae seemed to notice them. He took a calming breath. “I mean...yes— yeah...I do…”

They looked at each other. Now Mark _definitely_ felt like he was a teenager again...

“Friday?” he asked, trying to at least pretend he was an adult. He even managed a smile.

Jaebum stared at him like he could hardly believe what he was hearing. Or that he even had the nerve to ask in the first place. “Y-yeah.”

Mark nodded. “Ok.”

Jaebum blinked. “O-ok.”

Almost in a daze, Jaebum turned and left. Mark watched him disappear, still not quite sure what happened.

He had a date. On Friday night.

Right.

He let out a slow, steadying breath.

Ok.

He followed Jaebum after shouting a quick apology to Youngjae.

“Jaebum…” he reached out to grab Jaebum’s arm just as he stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Without thinking, he stepped forward and placed a quick kiss of the corner of Jaebum’s lips.

“See you after school,” he hurried out in a single breath, and escaped back inside before Jaebum could react.

Throughout the day, his thoughts continued to stray back to that morning. Even Youngjae noticed.

“Did something good happen?” he asked during lunch as they ladled soup and rice onto students’ trays.

Mark smiled as Seonmi skipped in front of him. “Yeah...kind of.”

 

\----------------1 YEAR LATER----------------

 

“I can’t believe you bought her cotton candy _and_ a giant lollipop,” Jaebum grumbled, as Seonmi skipped happily ahead of them, a cone of spun blue sugar clutched tightly in her hand. 

Mark grinned as he watched Seonmi tear off large chunks and share them with his nieces.

“She’s staying with my sister tonight, anyway.”

Jaebum glared at him, but Mark just flashed him his cutest smile, knowing it was the only weapon he needed.

Sure enough, Jaebum sighed. “She’s going to like you more than me pretty soon.”

“Nonsense,” Mark tore off a piece of his own cotton candy and stuffed it Jaebum’s mouth. “You’re still her dad.”

Jaebum licked the excess sugar from his lips, reached for the cotton candy, and shoved a piece into Mark’s mouth in retaliation.

It was summer vacation, which meant Mark and Seonmi both had a break from school. After months of gentle prodding from Mark and not-so-gentle begging from Seonmi, Jaebum had finally agreed to spend two weeks in LA. They were spending most of their stay with Mark’s parents, who were _ecstatic_ when Mark asked if they could bring Seonmi as well. They were three days into their vacation, and Jaebum was already muttering that he would need an additional week off work when they returned to Seoul, just to recover.

They followed at a slower pace, much like they had the first time Mark had joined Jaebum and Seonmi at the zoo. It was hard to believe a year had passed since then...

Seonmi would be entering her _second_ year of elementary school when they returned, and Mark would be taking over his own class as a full-time teacher at Youngjae’s school.

He reached for Jaebum’s hand and laced their fingers together. Jaebum raised an eyebrow at him, but he just responded with a grin and swung their linked hands back and forth.

A year later, and his heart still skipped like he missed a step going down a flight of stairs. Even after another year passed, he wanted his heart to keep skipping just like that. He wanted it to skip after two years. Three years. Four. And even more after that.


	12. Jaebum/Jinyoung

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the request: "Inside Out au in which YJ/BB/YG are JY's emotions + fighting over who he must date etc."
> 
> So I'm still taking forever, but I have TWO MORE LEFT. Note to self: stop asking people for requests, because you can't actually deliver in a timely manner. 
> 
> Anyway, I loved this idea and thought it was adorable, so I hope you enjoy!

Since Jinyoung’s birth, Bambam, Yugyeom, and Youngjae had been there for everything. Like the first time he read a book by himself, and when he was cast as the main actor in his elementary school play. They were there when he argued for an _hour_ with his teacher over the 99.5% he received on an exam and still couldn't get the grade raised. And they were there when a _really_ cute boy walked by and Jinyoung realized boys could be cute too…

Every experience made Jinyoung who he was. And they were there for all of it.

They watched as music island was created and continued to grow. They watched book island form and even saw a few story characters of Jinyoung’s favorite books, flitting about the island every so often. Island after island was created as the years went by, full of everything that was Jinyoung — his passions, values, interests…

And when Love Island took a significant hit after a bad breakup, Youngjae, Bambam, and Yugyeom all made it their personal duty to make sure the next person was _the_ one.

“No.”

Youngjae and Yugyeom said in unison as Bambam spun around to glare at them, taking his eyes off the screen.

“Why _not_?”

“It's _Jackson,”_ Yugyeom replied, as if that was enough of a reason.

“What's wrong with Jackson?!” Bambam squawked indignantly. “He's been Jinyoung's best friend since high school!”

 _“Exactly!”_ Yugyeom scrunched up his nose. “He can't date his _best friend_.”

_“Why not?!”_

“Because the _one_ time they tried kissing it was _weird_ ,” Youngjae chimed in.

Bambam opened his mouth to argue. Then shut it again. With a huff, he spun back around. “That doesn't count.”

Yugyeom and Youngjae snorted.

“It so does,” Yugyeom retorted.

“They were _drunk.”_

Youngjae and Yugyeom shared a look and rolled their eyes.

Jinyoung _was_ going to find the one. But it _so_ wasn't going to be Jackson Wang.

And in Bambam and Youngjae's opinion, it wasn't going to be Mark Tuan either.

“He barely even _speaks_ ,” Bambam practically yelled, as Yugyeom watched Mark when Jinyoung approached for their usual Wednesday morning coffee “date” before class.

A small yellow orb made its way through the pipelines and a few lights flickered on Love Island. Yugyeom grinned smugly over his shoulder. Youngjae watched as Jinyoung and Mark chatted idly on their way to class, coffee in hand, then shrugged.

“It lights up when he sees Jackson too, and he's not falling in love with _him_.”

He dodged as Bambam swiped at him, and made his way over to the hammock he lounged in whenever he wasn't at the controls. Picking up the manual he'd been reading earlier, he dropped into the hammock and opened to the section titled, _“My Best Friend's Super Hot Roommate.”_

Bambam ducked his head to read the cover and scrunched his nose in disgust. “ _'College Romance Clichés and What to Do with Them'?"_

He danced away as Youngjae kicked out at him.

“You think that manual is going to help you make Jinyoung fall in love with Jaebum?” he giggled. Yugyeom snickered behind him.

He ignored both of them. Because Jackson’s roommate, Im Jaebum, was _the one_. He just needed a little help with getting Jinyoung to figure it out.

 

* * *

 

Youngjae grinned triumphantly as Jinyoung approached the table in the student union, where Jaebum was sitting alone, headphones on, frowning as he tapped his pencil against an open notebook. His lunch of instant ramen and a pack of store-bought kimchi sat untouched next to him. Jinyoung wondered how long he had been sitting there. 

This was his chance, Youngjae thought, easing a few controls up and slowly turning the dial that would give Jinyoung enough courage to walk up and sit with Jaebum even though he looked to be in his own world. There was no Bambam or Yugyeom around to bother him at the moment, and he was going to take _full_ advantage of that.

Jaebum looked up and blinked cutely at Jinyoung when he tapped his shoulder to get his attention. When he broke into a smile and nodded, Youngjae beamed proudly as Love Island came to life behind him and a bright pink orb made its way through the pipes.

Jaebum had a cold, aloof aura that made him the subject of a lot of distant admirers too intimidated to get close. But Youngjae and Jinyoung saw a warm smile that turned his eyes into two perfect crescent moons. They saw the way he dove into his compositions, and heard the soulful crooning coming from the individual practice rooms in the Arts building. And maybe it was because they'd seen Jaebum tousle-haired and barely coherent early in the morning, shuffling out of his room and grumbling when he saw the mess Jackson made trying to cook breakfast. Or maybe it was the way he doted on his cat, Nora…

Whatever the reason, Jinyoung and Youngjae didn't think Jaebum was intimidating at all.

 

* * *

 

In Bambam’s opinion, Love Island was brightest when Jinyoung was around Jackson. They met in high school when Jackson was an exchange student, and had been practically inseparable since. The only reason they weren't roommates was because their apartments were assigned as part of University housing. It was a minor setback, but Bambam was confident. 

“He's so _petty!_ ” Youngjae said incredulously, gesturing wildly to the screen.

“Well he _is_ our best friend…” Bambam reasoned, watching as Jackson and Jinyoung bickered. “We should have partnered with him.”

 _“It was two years ago! In high school!”_ he practically shrieked.

While they were arguing, Yugyeom quietly snuck his hands across the control panel.

Bambam opened his mouth to retort and snapped it shut again when they heard Jinyoung's voice.

“Are we really going to talk about something that happened _two years ago_ , when just last week you went out to eat meat with Mark and didn't invite me?”

Jackson gaped and sputtered out indignant excuses as Bambam wrestled a cackling Yugyeom away from the controls.

“Jaebum would _never_ ,” Youngjae laughed.

Bambam glared at him. “Jaebum barely even knows you're in the same advanced composition class!”

Youngjae stopped laughed immediately at the harsh truth of his words.

Smug, Bambam shoved Yugyeom away and took over for damage control. Bickering was always part of the deal when it came to being friends with Jackson. In fact, it was practically flirting. Jinyoung needled Jackson over small things just to see his over-the-top reactions. They were cute and endearing and Bambam could already see the meter at the edge of the screen showing Jinyoung's affection growing as he and Jackson continued to banter.

He was definitely going to make Jinyoung see no one could ever make him laugh the way Jackson did.

 

* * *

 

When Jinyoung first met Mark, Yugyeom _knew_ he was the one. They clicked immediately. Mark was the perfect roommate — he was quiet but playful, and just as happy to spend a Saturday night in watching a movie with Jinyoung, as he was spending the night out partying with Jackson (which meant Jinyoung didn't have to). 

In short, Mark was perfect.

“Oh!” Yugyeom beamed excitedly. “He's drinking chocolate milk!” he shoved Bambam out of the way for a better view. “Jinyoung _has_ to choose him!”

“What kind of reason is that?!” Bambam squawked, tugging Yugyeom from the controls before he could do any _permanent_ damage to the feelings he so carefully nurtured towards Jackson. “Jackson could break him in half! Besides, he shouldn't even _be_ drinking anything in a library!”

“At least Mark _goes_ to the library!” Yugyeom retorted, attempting to take back the controls, but Bambam already had Jinyoung texting Jackson about dinner...

“Jaebum-hyung has broader shoulders,” Youngjae commented from where he lounged on the hammock behind them. He flipped idly through a booked titled _‘Loving a Cat Lover’. “And_ he's got a book collection almost as big as Jinyoung’s.”

Bambam wrinkled his nose. “He wears _track pants_ to class.”

Yugyeom snorted. “When is the last time Jackson went out in public without a snapback on?”

He toyed with the controls and immediately fixed on Mark, who was sitting across from Jinyoung in the library, his head resting on one hand as he doodled in the margins of his notes. He sighed happily.

Yeah...Mark was definitely the _one._ He had a beautiful, bright smile, long fingers, a perfect voice, perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect bone structure, perfect—

Bambam shoved him away as Jinyoung checked his phone for Jackson's reply.

“Don't even think about it,” he growled, taking over the controls again.

Youngjae sighed behind them.

They were fighting a losing battle, he thought smugly.

Jinyoung was going to fall in love with Jaebum. He was going to make sure of it.

 

* * *

 

Youngjae couldn't believe his luck. Jaebum had asked Jinyoung to be his partner for their composition assignment. He took a moment to smirk over his shoulder at Bambam and Yugyeom, who were sulking on the couch.

 _Barely knows we're in the same class...HA!_  

“It means nothing,” Bambam insisted. 

Yugyeom nodded vigorously in agreement. Seconds later a pink orb fell through the pipes.

Youngjae's smirk deepened as Bambam and Yugyeom let out simultaneous groans.

“You were saying?” he laughed, turning back to look at the screen.

“It's just a _crush,”_ Bambam sulked, glaring at the pink orb as it made its way down to memory sorting. “What he has with Jackson is so much deeper.”

Youngjae snorted and watched as Jinyoung and Jaebum walked through campus. A happy yellow memory orb came through the pipes and followed the pink one. The affection meter was maxed out and every time Jaebum laughed, Jinyoung's heart skipped a beat.

Yugyeom sighed loudly behind him.

 

* * *

 

 _Yes_. This was it. Bambam’s chance. _Jinyoung’s_ chance. The alcohol was making Jackson touchy and needy, and Jinyoung a happy, willing, target of Jackson's affections. Jinyoung didn't go out often, but some nights, Mark and Jackson managed to convince him he couldn't spend yet _another_ Saturday night reading or studying or watching movies. 

Jackson rested his chin on Jinyoung's shoulder and wrapped his arms around his waist. Even in the dim lighting of the bar, up close, Jackson looked more handsome than ever with his newly dyed brown hair, and big, puppy-dog eyes. Jinyoung's heart fluttered a bit, and Bambam grinned as a pink orb dropped through the tubes and the lights on Love Island glowed brightly.

There had always been _something_ there. Deep below the surface. Under the years of friendship. Bambam just had to make Jinyoung realize it was _there_ without the help of alcohol.

The sound of Jackson's delighted giggle echoed through the room, and the affection meter at the side of the screen spiked as he let out a high-pitched, “Jinyoung-ah!”

Bambam grinned. Only a matter of time...

 

* * *

 

“Wow." 

“It's not like we haven't seen it before!”

“...he definitely didn't have those abs before.”

“Stop staring at him, it's weird!"

Youngjae glanced over his newest manual titled _‘Making Love with Music,’_ to see Bambam and Yugyeom wrestling over the controls again. On the screen was Mark. Moving around their dorm room. In nothing but a towel.

And Jinyoung. Staring.

A pink ball fell through the pipes and Youngjae watched it travel down to memories.

 _Well…_ Youngjae reasoned, returning to his manual...he _was_ in a towel.

 

* * *

 

Even Bambam and Yugyeom couldn't sabotage this. Jaebum and Jinyoung's voices together were _perfect._  

Youngjae, Bambam, and Yugyeom watched, filled with pride as Jinyoung sang the lyrics he had written for their project. Youngjae even gave a happy cheer when Jaebum looked at him as they sang.

“He _totally_ likes Jinyoung!” he said happily, watching Jaebum sneak glances at Jinyoung from the corner of his eye when he thought Jinyoung wasn't looking. But, _oh_...he noticed. And so did Youngjae.

“It's a _duet_ ,” Bambam said, sounding less convinced than usual. “He _has_ to look at Jinyoung!”

Youngjae ignored him, completely focused on the screen. Bambam could deny it all he wanted. But there was something in Jaebum’s gaze...

Another pink orb fell through the pipes. That was ten to Bambam’s three, and Yugyeom's four, since the year began. Not that Youngjae was counting…

 

* * *

 

“I think Mark likes Jackson,” Youngjae frowned thoughtfully at the screen. 

“What?!”

“He does not!”

Bambam and Yugyeom shouted in unison. Youngjae raised an eyebrow at them.

“It's so obvious.”

They spun around to look back at the screen.

Jinyoung was sitting on the love seat next to Jaebum (an accomplishment Youngjae took full credit for before Yugyeom and Bambam wrestled him away from the controls) in the cafe on campus, with Jackson and Mark sitting in the two armchairs across from them. It was Thursday afternoon and they were enjoying the warmth of the cafe before Jackson and Jinyoung had to part for their evening classes.

Happy memories rolled down the pipelines, followed by pink love memories. Friendship Island and Love Island were brighter than ever, and Youngjae couldn't help but smile. It was such a simple, ordinary day, but Jinyoung was _happy_.

Jackson said something Youngjae didn't quite catch, and Mark replied with a short one-liner that had Jaebum throwing his head back as he laughed. Jinyoung leaned into him as he joined. Even Jackson was laughing.

An orb Youngjae had never seen before fell through the pipes and made its way into core memory storage. It was a swirl of pink and yellow.

He watched the core memory pod sink back into the floor before looking back at the screen.

Jinyoung's side was still pressed against Jaebum, but he was watching Mark and Jackson. Youngjae didn't need to be in his head to know what he was thinking. The way Mark looked at Jackson was obvious.

“...oh...no…” Bambam’s eyes widened in horror as he realized it too.

“They can't!” Yugyeom cried, gripping his hair and looking at the screen as if some great tragedy were unfolding before them.

It didn't matter how much they denied it. The truth was there in Mark’s smile and the pink tinge on Jackson’s cheeks. And next to Jinyoung, Jaebum was stealing glances again.

 

* * *

 

“No!” Bambam and Yugyeom wailed, trying to wrestle Youngjae away from the controls. He stubbornly gripped the edges and watched with a kind of manic joy as Jaebum’s face moved closer.

Finally.

 _Finally_.

The evening had started out as any other, with Jinyoung and Jaebum sitting side-by-side on a piano bench, working late on last minute tweaks to their composition. They took turns trying out new chords in places they thought could be better, or tightened up the chorus and maybe a few words here and there. Then, as the night drew on, and their song finally felt complete, neither seemed willing to leave. It was nearing midnight and they simply sat on the bench, trading turns making improvised melodies. When it was Jinyoung's turn, Jaebum watched him. And as usual, Jinyoung noticed.

Only tonight, Jaebum didn’t turn away when Jinyoung looked at him.

 _“They can’t!”_ Yugyeom cried, finally forcing Youngjae away.

Just as Jinyoung began to lean forward, Yugyeom slammed his hand down on the big red button that forced Jinyoung to scramble up from the bench, panicked and embarrassed, and mostly just confused, because his heart was hammering and his pulse was racing and everything inside him _wanted_ to close that gap…

“I...uh…”

Youngjae struggled to get back to the controls but Bambam held him back.

“YAH!” he yelled as Bambam stubbornly latched onto his legs.

“I...h-have to...go…” Jinyoung stammered out.

Youngjae knew Jinyoung must be blushing. Knew he felt confused and saddened and probably had _no idea_ the only reason he wasn’t _kissing Im Jaebum_ _right now_ was because a giant of a misguided emotion was fiddling with the controls. Vaguely Youngjae wondered how much damage it would inflict on Jinyoung if he threw Yugyeom into the gorge of forgotten memories…

He let out a miserable cry when he saw Jaebum looking just as confused as Jinyoung and twice as hurt.

“Y-yeah….sure…” he said. “I’m...sorry I didn’t—”

“—it’s ok!” Jinyoung interrupted, quickly gathering his bags.

Youngjae had very nearly dislodged himself from Bambam, and was half-dragging him across the room back to the control panel.

“I just...have to go.”

With a relieved sigh, Yugyeom finally turned to see Youngjae and Bambam still struggling.

“It’s for the best, you know,” he said solemnly. “Mark is the one—” _Thump!_

Youngjae threw Bambam off him and chucked his shoe at Yugyeom’s head, before shoving him away from the control panel.

He was _so_ not letting Jinyoung walk away from Jaebum.

Not now.

Not when he was _so damn close_.

He quickly reset all of the flight and anxiety responses Yugyeom set off and forced Jinyoung to stop before he reached the door.

 _Turn around,_ he thought desperately, watching the screen.

“It’s no use,” Yugyeom said, rubbing the spot where the shoe hit him.

Youngjae ignored him.

_Turn around._

Bambam and Yugyeom howled as Jinyoung spun on his heel and strode back to the piano bench. Before Jaebum had time to react, Jinyoung’s lips were on his. And then they were gone again.

“I’ll...see you tomorrow,” he breathed, turning again to leave. 

A bright pink orb fell through the pipes and made its way to core memories.

“All of our hard work…” Bambam sunk to the floor.

“He’s the one,” Yugyeom dropped next to him, caught between disbelief and despair. “Poor Mark.”

Youngjae rolled his eyes.

On the screen, Jaebum had reached out to grab Jinyoung’s arm and pulled him back for a second kiss.

He beamed happily as Bambam and Yugyeom sighed and reluctantly conceded that, at last, they had finally found _the one_.


	13. Jackson/Jaebum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OMG.
> 
> IT HAS BEEN TOO LONG.
> 
> I ETERNALLY APOLOGIZE TO THE LAST TWO REQUESTS BECAUSE I'M A TERRIBLE PERSON WHO LOSES INSPIRATION AND MOTIVATION SO EASILY.
> 
> This is for sailingfreely who requested JB can't stop keeping an eye on Youngjae since the boy is kinda hopeless and Jackson being jealous and petty about it, he clings to other members more to rile up JB (basically them being jealous to each other).
> 
> Thank you for the patience I hope this isn't disappointing <3

Jackson wasn't sulking. He just...really liked this corner. And it wasn't like he was staring across the practice room at Jaebum while he helped Youngjae with the _"Girls Girls Girls"_ choreography. He wasn't _jealous_ or anything.

Not of the way Jaebum spent extra time in vocal lessons and stayed after dance practice to help Youngjae. 

Or how Jaebum’s room suddenly became _Jaebum and Youngjae’s_ room.

How _Youngjae_ was on the other end of Jaebum’s smiles...

How he sat next to Jaebum at dinner and in the van and basically _everywhere_...

Why would he be jealous.

He wasn't jealous.

“Are you sick?”

Jackson jumped so violently he even drew Jaebum’s attention away from Youngjae long enough for a curious stare through the mirror.

Mark let out a delighted giggle—that high-pitched laugh that revealed just how much of a shitty friend he really was. He reached out to swipe at Mark's legs, but he dodged it easily and dropped down next to Jackson with a shit-eating grin.

“Not sick, then.”

Jackson glared at him and drew his knees to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his legs, rested his chin on his knees, and continued to not-jealously stare at Jaebum moving Youngjae's limbs for him as if he couldn't—

Mark snorted, making Jackson look at him again. “What?”

Mark raise an eyebrow. “Do you _know_ you think out loud?”

Jackson blinked. He totally didn't think out loud.

“You do.”

Sighing, he turned his gaze back to Jaebum, whose eye caught his through the mirror. He gave a small smile before focusing his attention back to fixing Youngjae’s position.

Mark followed his gaze. “Are…” he let out a soft, incredulous laugh and looked at Jackson with that _I'm-definitely-an-asshole-and-a-terrible-friend_ gleam in his eye. “Are you jealous of Youngjae?”

“What?!” Jackson snapped his head around again. “Of course not!” he squawked, jumping up and stalking towards the couch so he could shove his way between Jinyoung and Yugyeom and most _definitely_ away from Mark, who hadn't moved from his spot, but fixed him with a disbelieving look.

_He wasn’t jealous._

 

* * *

 

“Just kiss him already.” 

“If he kills you, we can probably ask Wonpil to debut with us.”

Jackson glowered as Mark and Jinyoung collapsed against each other in helpless giggles.

 _“_ I have no idea what you’re talking about _,”_ he grumbled, even as his gaze wandered across the practice room and fixed on Jaebum.

They were five days from debut and Jaebum was _still_ helping Youngjae. He looked _perfectly_ fine to Jackson. Besides, no one would notice if his foot was one centimeter off or his hand a little too low...

“You’re so obvious,” Jinyoung deadpanned. “It’s actually painful to watch.”

Jackson scowled but didn't respond.

“Don't worry, Jackson,” Mark stood and pulled Jackson's hat over his eyes. “You're still his favorite.”

Jaebum’s eye caught his in the mirror, and he tried not to feel _too_ pleased about it.

 

* * *

 

 _"_ _I’m still at the studio with Youngjae,"_ Jaebum’s voice spoke quietly in Jackson's ear. He gripped the phone a little tighter.

“No problem,” he replied, a little to cheerfully. “We’ll just go to dinner without you, then.” 

When he hung up, Jinyoung was standing in the entrance of the living room, one finely trimmed eyebrow raised.

“Let’s have ramen instead,” he grunted, stalking towards the kitchen, ignoring Jinyoung’s protests about _samgyeopsal_ and rib-eye and not having barbeque in _forever._

Out of spite, he used up the last of Jaebum’s favorite ramen pack and texted a picture of him sharing with a disgruntled Jinyoung and an ambivalent Mark.

Jaebum didn't text back.

 

* * *

 

“ _We_ don't even share a mattress and we’re practically best friends!” Jackson paced around their room. 

Mark didn't look up from his phone, and only mildly indulged him with a disinterested hum.

“It's nothing, right?” he asked desperately, throwing himself down next to Mark. He grabbed his collar and leaned in so their faces were mere inches apart.

“Get off.”

Jackson leaned closer, practically on top of him with a kind of frantic desperation. “You know he sleeps naked, right?”

Mark scrunched his nose. “How do you know that—"

The door opened and they looked up. Jaebum was standing in the doorway, his eyes narrowed slightly at them. Jackson froze.

Sighing, Mark shoved him off and sat up a bit straighter. “Yeah?”

Jaebum glanced at Jackson before looking back at Mark.

“Our schedule was moved up an hour—”

Mark groaned and flopped back down.

“—so be up by six.”

The door slammed behind him and Mark groaned again.

“Is it too late to join DAY6?”

 

* * *

 

Jaebum was ignoring him. And Jackson didn't even know _why._  

"How can you _not know_?” Bambam rolled his eyes.

Jackson glared at him through the dressing room mirror, but he was already scrolling through his phone again.

"We should just lock them in a room," Yugyeom muttered from the couch.

" _I didn't do anything!"_

Bambam threw his phone into Jackson's lap. The latest episode of _Real GOT7_ played back at him. He was doing pushups with BamBam lying across his back.

He looked up. "Why are you showing me _Real GOT7?"_

Sighing, Bambam stood, took his phone back, and left the room, muttering, "I'm not old enough for this."

 

* * *

 

Ok. 

Jackson tensed from the back seat of the van as he watched Jaebum’s head loll to one side, and onto Youngjae’s shoulder.

Maybe he was a little jealous.

Next to him, Yugyeom gave a soft snort.

 

* * *

 

Jackson was definitely imagining that glare in the practice room mirror.

Why was Jaebum angry? _Again?_  

He sighed and shifted his head in Mark's lap.

"Get off," he grunted, rolling Jackson off the couch.

He landed on the floor with an ungraceful _thump_.

When he looked back at Mark, he had stretched himself across the couch so his legs laid across Youngjae's lap. Jackson glared at him.

"Jackass."

Jaebum slammed the practice room door shut behind him, after grumbling something about needing "fresh air."

"Dumbass," Mark muttered back.

 

* * *

 

Jackson was at least 95% sure he shouldn't be eavesdropping.

But was it _his_ fault he happened to get hungry at _exactly_ the same moment Jaebum and Jinyoung were apparently having a heart-to-heart in the kitchen?

Was it _his_ fault. Really. That he heard his name?

No one could blame him. Not really. Even _if_ Mark raised a super judgmental eyebrow at his crouched figure as he headed to the bathroom.

“He's just so…” Jaebum trailed off and let out a frustrated groan.

“Jealous,” Jinyoung deadpanned.

There was a short silence, in which Jackson was almost certain he was going to turn old and _die_ before Jaebum actually responded.

Mark passed him again. He glanced into the kitchen, as if contemplating giving away Jackson's position, then probably decided it wasn’t worth it. He walked back to their room, muttering, “dumbass” as he passed.

Jackson heard the lock on their bedroom door click.

“How is he _jealous_?” Jaebum asked, exasperated.

Jinyoung snorted softly. He heard the chair scrape across the tile.

“Good night, _hyung.”_

“Yah—”

“Ah...” Jinyoung stopped just before he reached the entrance to their kitchen. “You know…”

Jackson pressed himself against the wall like he was trying to sink into it. He hadn't exactly thought of an escape plan. Jinyoung was definitely going to find him.

“I don't think it's just Jackson...”

Jackson started inching himself across the wall. The problem was whether Mark would unlock the door in time. Or at all.

Jaebum didn't reply.

Seconds later, Jinyoung appeared. When he saw Jackson, his eyebrow raised and he looked infuriatingly identical to Mark.

“We really should just lock you two in a room,” he muttered, before disappearing into his room.

Jackson managed to escape into the bathroom just before Jaebum left the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

“Jinyoung—” 

Jinyoung turned his back when Jackson stepped in front of him, not taking his eyes off his phone.

“—what did you mean—” Jackson scrambled to stand in front of him again but Jinyoung, once again, turned.

“—when you said—”He tried to get in front of Jinyoung again, but he spun around as if he was shaking off an annoying fly.

“—YAH!”

Jinyoung finally looked up, annoyed. “ _Ask Jaebum.”_

 

* * *

 

Jackson couldn't take it anymore. 

“About time,” Mark muttered as Jackson slammed their bedroom door open and stormed into the living room, where Jaebum was watching some drama with Youngjae and Yugyeom. He scowled at the way Jaebum and Youngjae sat with their shoulders pressed together. _T_ _hey had the entire couch why did they even need—_

"Oh...Jackson..." Jaebum looked up from the television. "What's up?"

He glowered back.

What's up.

_What's up._

Like Jaebum wasn't sitting there. With Youngjae next to him. _Wearing one of Jaebum's hoodies._

Jackson really. Really couldn't do this.

Without answering, he stalked to the entrance, shoved his feet into his shoes, and left.

He threw the door to the roof open and strode across until he was standing at the edge, overlooking a somewhat unsatisfying view of Seoul.

Maybe he was being dramatic.

The image of Jaebum sitting next to Youngjae on the couch flashed through his mind.

And _maybe_ _Jaebum was just an asshole—_

"Mind telling me what that dramatic exit was about?"

Scowling, Jackson hunched his shoulders, and leaned his elbows on the low wall. He didn't answer.

Jaebum sighed.

"What's wrong?"

Jackson remained stubbornly silent and continued to stare out at the city as Jaebum stood next to him.

"Jackson—"

“Why do you like Youngjae more than me?!” he finally burst out, straightening and glaring at Jaebum, who blinked.

It sounded so childish. Petty. But there it was—Jackson was jealous. He hated Jaebum sitting next to Youngjae in the van. Hated when they were the last two recording in the studio. He hated being on the receiving end of Jaebum’s stern words, when Youngjae received gentle encouragement.

_And why the hell was Youngjae even wearing one of Jaebum's hoodies, he had like 10 of his own._

Jaebum’s eyes widened. “What?”

Jackson opened his mouth. Then shut it again. He turned back to staring at the city.

“Nevermind.”

Jaebum stared at him. Silence stretched between them for what felt like hours, but Jackson knew it must have only been seconds.

“I don’t—” he sighed. “Jackson.”

Something in Jaebum’s voice made Jackson turn his head.

Jaebum grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him forward. His breath caught. Their lips were so close he could feel Jaebum’s breath against his. He swallowed. His heart had jumped into his throat and lodged itself there. Jaebum’s eyes locked onto his.

"Are you really jealous of Younjae?"

"...maybe."

Jackson felt Jaebum's hand tighten around the back of his neck just before their lips met. Jaebum kissed him like this was the first and last time they ever would. Jackson held on to him. Kissed him back. Because _like hell he was going to let this be the last fucking time_.

 

* * *

 

"He's doing that on purpose now, isn't he," Yugyeom asked, watching as Jackson hung himself around Jinyoung's neck, laughing at his own joke.

Bambam followed Jackson's gaze and saw Jaebum watching through the dressing room mirror, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed. He sighed and turned back to his phone.

"Yep."


	14. Mark/Jinyoung/Jackson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With this, I've finally finished all of my requests!!!
> 
> This is for my friend, dreamsaboutsky, who requested romantic markjinson. They are strangers by the life's joke smashed together in the economy class on the airplane and at first thoroughly annoyed with each other but after several times of ending together they start to build friendship and feelings.
> 
> I am really sorry for how long this took me to finish and I hope you like it <3

Jinyoung had always considered himself  lucky whenever he traveled. He had no horror stories about lost luggage, screaming children, long delays, canceled flights, or other passengers.

Then he met Mark Tuan and Jackson Wang.

The red-eye flight from Los Angeles to Seoul had been delayed an hour, but Jinyoung didn't think too much of it—he'd had similar delays before.

He was the first in his row to arrive. As he was pulling his book out of his bag, a soft voice made him look up.

"Um...e-excuse me...?"

The first time Jinyoung saw Mark, he thought he _definitely_ had to be one of the luckiest travelers alive. He was _gorgeous_. Jinyoung drank in the shy smile, dyed blond hair hidden under a black cap, and lean figure...

He didn't realize he had yet to get up until Mark dipped his head and tilted it to one side, looking politely confused. "Um...?"

Jinyoung scrambled out of his seat, hoping Mark didn't notice the embarrassed flush across his cheeks as he slid passed Jinyoung and into the window seat. There was a small twinge of disappointment as Jinyoung took his seat in the aisle again—if he was _really_ lucky, Mark would have been in the center seat.

He heard Jackson before he saw him.

"Here, let me get that for you!"

Jinyoung looked up and saw a guy with a solid, stocky build, decked out in all black from his hoodie to the snapback with _WANG_ across the front in big, gold letters. His arms were stretched above his head as he helped a woman who was juggling a baby and a toddler. Jinyoung watched him push her luggage into the overhead bin, admiring the way the hoodie rode up _just_ enough for him to catch a glimpse of finely toned abs.

When Jackson finished, he ruffled the toddlers hair, told her to be good to her mom, then turned to look for his own seat. Jinyoung's heart sped just a few paces as he watched Jackson's eyes skim across the top before pausing at the numbers over Jinyoung's head. Surely he couldn't be _that_ lucky—

Jackson turned his bright smile on Jinyoung, whose heart skipped two, three beats.

_He was an idiot._

Since that day, _not a single thing had ever gone right_. Not when Mark and Jackson were around.

Which seemed to be _almost every damn flight_ Jinyoung happened to take.

When they landed in Seoul, the airline lost his baggage.

Two months later, his flight to Tokyo returned to Seoul just 45 minutes after take-off due to mechanical issues. Jackson was next to him, laughing and relaying the time he had to make an emergency landing at Beijing Airport on his way to France. Mark was fast asleep in his window seat, headphones in, the brim of his hat pulled down to hide as much of his face as he could.

A month later, Jinyoung was standing at the lost luggage counter at Heathrow.

"You too?" Mark grumbled, coming to stand behind him. They had been on the same flight.

Jackson waved cheerily at them as he passed, pulling a black suitcase behind him.

If it was just bad luck, Jinyoung could probably learn to appreciate the additional time spent with them during a delay. Even the sudden influx of screaming, crying children during his flights wouldn't have been so grating if he hadn't _also_ been forced to listen to Jackson talk for five hours straight.

Whether it was asking how planes stayed up, or forcing Jinyoung to watch a movie with him even though it was on _Jackson's_ personal TV screen and entirely in English, Jinyoung had not been able to get through a single chapter in any of his books whenever he sat next to Jackson.

On the rare occasions Mark was next to him, he stretched out his legs as far as he could, and took up _both_ arm rests. And cute or not, Jinyoung did not want to spend an entire flight with Mark's limbs in _his_ space.

Then there was Jackson abusing the attendant button because _they might be bored_ _so why shouldn't he call them over just to talk_.

And Mark again. Falling asleep so deeply that Jinyoung and Jackson had to literally climb over him whenever he was in the center or aisle seat. Once, Mark had woken up as Jackson was climbing over, his legs straddling Mark's lap. What happened next was a lot of cursing, yelling, and ended in all three of them being met by airport security once they landed.

More than once he had either Mark or Jackson fall asleep on his shoulder. One time, Mark had slept on him for _eight hours_.

 _"Just move him,"_ Jackson hissed. Jinyoung didn't. Or couldn't. Even as he sprinted for the bathroom once they deplaned, his shoulder aching, he felt strangely happy it was _him_ Mark had fallen asleep on.

It was like being caught in some bizarre fate. No matter what, Jinyoung never had a single flight go well whenever those two were on the same one. And they were _always_ in the same row. Right next to each other. The one time they weren't, Jackson actually asked the person to switch seats with him.

Jinyoung's _worst_ memory was the time a canceled flight left him taking another, much later flight. He missed his connecting flight home, and had to take the first one the following morning. It wasn't even worth getting a hotel for the night. Grouchy, sore, and exhausted, he dragged his luggage behind him as he searched for an empty bench to stretch out on.

"Jinyoung!" Jackson's all-too-familiar voice made him slow to a stop.

Taking up a sizable corner of the departures terminal like he had set up a small camp, was Jackson. And Mark. Wrapped up in a blanket, wearing an over-sized hoodie Jinyoung was _certain_ he had seen Jackson wear before, surrounded by bags and snacks. His phone was propped up on Jackson's luggage like he was watching a movie, and there was a pile of blankets next to him Jinyoung suspected must have been where Jackson had been watching next to him (whatever pang he felt in his chest at the moment _definitely_ had more to do with Jackson now dragging him over to join, and nothing to do with the image of Jackson and Mark cuddling together in the middle of an airport to watch a movie).

"Are you on a layover?" Jackson asked, eyes widening curiously. And Jinyoung admitted—it was pretty cute. Adorable even.

Within minutes, he found himself sandwiched between Mark and Jackson, watching some American movie with entirely too many car chases and explosions. Not that the absence of plot really mattered. Jinyoung was barely paying attention anyway. Mark was warm, and so was Jackson. He drifted off less than ten minutes in.

It was the first time he felt just a _little_ disappointed when the three of them parted for different gates.

 

The next time Jinyoung saw Jackson, he was hurrying down the aisle looking flustered, and panting as if he had sprinted onto the plane. Mark was in a similar state behind him, bent over and clutching a stitch in his side.

 _"Move,"_ he panted irritably, giving Jackson a hard shove.

Jinyoung glanced at the two vacant seats next to him. He sighed. Of course. He stood to let Mark take his usual seat by the window as Jackson took the middle. It wasn't that he hadn't already suspected when their pilot announced they would be delayed fifteen minutes while they waited for two late passengers. He had almost expected it to be them.

Still...a small voice in the back of his head said, _'This isn't normal_. _'_

But, he thought as he buckled in, it was. Somehow, it was only natural that Mark and Jackson were sitting next to him.

"First flight was delayed," Jackson said, finally catching his breath, and gratefully taking the offered bottle of water Jinyoung bought earlier.

He watched Jackson down half, before offering it to Mark, who flashed him a thankful smile, and finished it off.

Something warm and affectionate chased away the jealousy (yes, he admitted it) that had crept under his skin when he thought of Jackson and Mark on the same flight. Without him.

What he couldn't figure out was who he was jealous _of_.

As Jackson launched into an enthusiastic story about his trip, and Mark retreated into his headphones, Jinyoung realized...

He wasn't jealous of Mark for being with Jackson, or of Jackson for being with Mark. He was jealous because _he_ wasn't there at all. With both of them.

 

The next time they saw each other, Jinyoung was actually _looking_ for them. His flight had been cancelled, and he wouldn't be able fly out until the next day, which could only mean one thing—they had to be on the flight.

Sure enough, he saw Mark standing nearby, waiting with the rest of the passengers for the shuttle that would take them to their hotel for the night. After a quick glance around, he spotted Jackson at the small snack stand, buying an iced coffee and green tea. Unable to help himself, Jinyoung walked over, grabbed a bottle of iced coffee, and stood behind Jackson.

"Want to buy mine too?" he murmured in Jackson's ear.

Jackson let out a startled shout and jumped into the person in front of him. After apologizing profusely, he spun around, mouth open, ready to yell at whatever idiot had scared him. When he saw Jinyoung, who was laughing with his hand over his mouth and eyes wrinkled at the corners, his expression immediately brightened.

"Jinyoung!"

The way Jackson said his name made his heart give a happy little skip. As far as Jinyoung was concerned, he never needed another on-time fight if it meant seeing Jackson smile at him like that again.

 

* * *

 

Something was...off. Not quite right. Missing.

Jackson was next to him...again. Scrolling through his phone as the plane pulled out of the gate. Jinyoung frowned.

Hours later, just before they parted ways—Jinyoung for the Arrivals exit, and Jackson for a connecting flight—Jinyoung realized...

Mark wasn't there.

 

* * *

 

Jackson was the first to ask for their numbers.

Mark was the last to reply to messages, but always sent his flight information.

Jinyoung was the first to ask to meet up outside the airport for once.

 

Jackson kissed Mark first. Jinyoung kissed Jackson.

And for the first time, Jinyoung was sitting between Mark and Jackson because Mark had bought three tickets to LA instead of one.

There was a screaming child kicking the back of Jackson's seat, and their flight had been delayed four hours, but as Jinyoung laced his fingers with Jackson's, and rested his head on Mark's shoulder, he couldn't really bring himself to care. Even with delays, canceled flights, lost baggage, and screaming children, Jinyoung still considered it all part of his luck.


End file.
